Storm Surge
by R. E. Lyngard
Summary: Sequel to Gaining Perspective. With the destruction of Mumm-Ra by the Star of Thundera, the Mutants decide to step up the battle for control of Third Earth, but they didn’t expect a ThunderCat to no longer play by the rules. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Storm Surge**

* * *

_An anomalous rise in water elevations caused by severe storms approaching the coast. A storm surge can be succinctly described as a large wave that moves with the storm that caused it. The intensity and dimension of the storm causing a surge, and thus the severity of the ensuing surge elevations, depend on the origin and atmospheric characteristics of the storm itself. (from: /topic/storm-surge - SciTech Encyclopedia_

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Calm Before the Storm**

* * *

_The calm before the storm isn't a new concept by any means. It was recognized long ago that before a severe storm, the air is still and the birds stop singing and go to shelter. "Calm continueth not long without a storm." This quote from an unknown source was written in 1576. (from www.gsfc.nasa.gov/scienceques2003/20030926.htm)_

* * *

Moonlight spilled into the courtyard, softening the dark shadows cast by the various plants. A soft breeze scented with flowers and coming rains drifted from the north. A sprinkling of miniature lights twinkled in the branches above me, transforming the newly planted gardens that had been created in so few days into an otherworldly dimension.

I paused for a moment as I was gripped by the faintest of memories of a tale I was told as a young cub back on Thundera. I stared at the tiny sparkles slowly shifting with the breeze on the treed canopy willing the thoughts to the forefront of my mind. My breath stilled in my lungs as I waited for the reverie to come, but just as quickly as the recollection had sparked, it fled into the recesses of my consciousness.

Remembering to breathe, I once again resumed my walk to an alcove set with an ember flame, highlighting a beautiful stone sculpture. As I neared the rock formation, I could make out finer details embedded in the facets of the carving. The stone was smooth, so sleek it seemed to glow with moisture just under the surface. Almost as if called, the fingers of one of my hands grazed the ebony stone. No moisture enhanced the surface; it was simply polished to that sheen.

I set the small box that I had brought with me down on the perfectly manicured lawn and returned my attention to the stone. I had seen nothing like this since back on our home world. Our departure from Thundera had been of necessity. Only the items we could carry and few personal belongings were brought on board. I had taken even less. The items of value both personal and in clan history were carefully stowed away on the Acinonyx vessel carrying my family and my mate.

My heart crimped painfully with overwhelming loss. I had to blink quickly to keep the moisture threatening in my eyes from spilling down my cheeks. I cursed myself silently for my weakness and drew in a breath, harsh and shallow, to push the unwanted emotions down, deep into the hidden part of me, concealed from the world.

A soft clearing of a throat to my right reminded me that I was not alone. I schooled myself not to jump in startled fright. I would not allow myself to show how entranced I had been in my own thoughts; thoughts that I did not wish to share at the moment or any other moment in time.

"This is amazing." My voice was quiet in awe of the work that the other ThunderCats had put into the garden courtyard.

It had taken my body longer to recover from the blood loss I had received by my own hand during Pumyra, BenGali, and Lynx-O's anointment celebration. Even now, I could feel the shame heat my cheeks at the scene that I had created. Quickly, I scanned the plants in front of me, as I detoured my mind from replaying the past in an endless circuit, of which I had been doing since coming to consciousness in sickbay.

"We wanted to make a memorial to all of those we have lost," Lion-O replied to my earlier statement. Hopefully, he was taking my breathless statement at face value, not looking beyond my silence into my heart. I chanced a look at the young lord and immediately regretted the move. His eyes were soft, gentle russet, showing how much he understood.

"It is important that we remember the past, honor those we have lost," I agreed, attempting to place my own feelings behind the losses of the other members of our group, the survivors of my extended family, now my only family. I saw Lion-O bend his head slightly, obviously remembering his own personal tragedies. He had been a newborn cub when he had lost his mother and little less than a fledging adolescent as Claudus had perished in Thundera's demise. On our way to this new existence, he had lost his childhood as well. I was overcome with guilt for my selfishness. I had had the opportunity to know my parents, have a mate, be a sibling. Lion-O had never had such possibilities.

"You have every right to your feelings," Lion-O whispered to me and reached out to capture my unencumbered hand in his comforting grasp.

How he could read my mind was frightening in its accuracy. I tried to step away grant, myself some peace, space, but his hand held me frozen to my spot. "We have all dealt with tragedy. But sometimes, never knowing what you have lost is less a burden than living life and having it all taken away," he continued.

This time as I sought distance, he granted it, letting me slip out of his hold. Part of me wanted to close the distance, throw myself into a hard embrace and mourn the losses that I have relived so recently, losses I had never known, never understood. Instead, I clung to my wavering strength in isolation. My burdens were my own. As Lion-O had reminded me, we all had lost so much.

I walked past the Acinonyx monument to an alcove planted with a small tree with branches that bent from the trunk and draped gracefully to the ground in a sweeping pattern that swayed in the gentle breeze. Below the tree was a field of small, blue flowers with a sweet fragrance. Both Wily Kit and Kat stood in front of a small placard nestled beneath the tree and surrounded by the flowers. I knelt next to the plaque and read silently. "The gracious Felis. In memory of Kanu and Katika, beloved parents."

"Your mother and father would be so proud of how you have grown, shown yourselves to be true Felis Thunderians," I said and stood to look at the two once kittens now adolescents in front of me. "You honor their memory not only here," I gestured to the section of the gardens that they had obviously worked hard on creating, "but also in your actions as ThunderCats."

My words meant to inspire ended up causing Kit's eyes to cloud. She threw herself into me, her arms clutching my waist. I had not intended to cause this reaction, this pain. I didn't know what to do, so I stood woodenly, my own arms draping around the young woman's back, my shoulder soaking up tears. My eyes fell to Wily Kat in a desire for assistance. He too appeared to be overcome with emotion. I watched as he surreptitiously swiped at his eyes, and then finally moved to help.

"Kit," he started, a voice thick and choked in a sob. He coughed and began again. "Kit, why don't you tell Cheetara about the plants we selected."

At her brother's suggestion, Kit pushed herself from me and quickly scrubbed her hand across her wet cheeks. "I am sorry," she gulped, and I saw the same heat of shame stain her cheeks as it had mine moments before.

"No," I whispered, the sound was much harsher than I intended, and I saw Kit's stance stiffen in reaction. I reached out and pulled her against me in a fierce embrace. I did not wish to be the example for her to look upon with regard to handling the past. "Don't apologize, ever!"

I felt Kit swallow convulsively against my neck in acknowledgment of my words before she pulled away again. This time her face while still damp held no guilt. In fact, I could see almost a relief in her posture. However it had come to pass, it seemed that my words had finally lifted the burden that she carried in her heart. "I won't," she promised.

Turning away from me, she pointed to the small tree that centered the plot of land. "That is called a weeping willow. Willa showed it to me. It is considered sacred by the Warrior Maidens. They have a legend that accompanies the tree.

"A long time ago there were two lovers that pledged themselves to each other forever. The young man was so smitten by the maiden that he made a vow that he would seek out the secret to immortality so that their love would last for eternity.

"The maiden desperately missed her betrothed, so every day she would sit beneath the tree and cry for him to return to her. The young man refused to give up his quest, but every once in awhile, he would return to the tree and lay a flower for the maiden to find to remind her of him. Brokenhearted, the maiden soon cried herself to death.

"Mother nature came and saw the maiden's body surrounded by all her tears. The Great Spirit wanted to honor the maiden for her devotion to her true love. So, She filled the tree and the leaves with the maiden's spirit, and suddenly, the branches began to weep. To this day, the Warrior Maidens say that when you stand under a weeping willow on the right type of night, you will hear the maiden wailing for her lover."

"That's quite a story," I replied. It certainly explained the tree's sorrow filled name although I wasn't too sure how appropriate it was for a memorial to one's parents.

"Well, it is just a legend, but Willa said that the tree holds special significance for the Warrior Maidens beyond the tree's name. In the Warrior Maiden's culture, the willow tree is said to host a wise spirit, and the tree itself symbolizes long life and immortality," Kat elaborated.

"It holds significance for me too," continued Kit, glaring at her brother's interruption. "Do you see how the branches sway with the wind? Both the branches and the leaves move in intricate motions. They remind me of the dances Mom used to perform for the royal court."

I turned and watched the wind move the tree in a nature-choreographed dance. I had almost forgotten that Lady Katika had been the prima dancer for the royal court. Her grace had been beyond comparison.

I continued to watch the interplay of the willow and thought how the tree appeared to have certain courage about it. How it seemed to have no fear of expressing its emotions, the ripe grief of the young maiden to the joy of the motion of air. Perhaps, the tree was a fitting memorial after all.

"What about these flowers?" I asked, leaning closer to catch the delicate scent.

"Cudi called them forget-me-nots," Kat answered quickly.

I nodded and inhaled the fresh fragrance once more before straightening. Their name certainly needed no more explanation. "Very lovely."

"I'm glad you like them," Kit said and held out three small seedlings to me. "We thought, you might like to place them in the Acinonyx section as well."

I was silent for a moment unable to even think of words to express my thoughts. That painful crimp in my heart, the one with which I was becoming quite familiar, hitched in my chest. "That would be very nice," I managed to respond and took a quiet, tight breath. I saw both Kit and Kat exchange a glance, their sibling telepathy engaged. The look that passed between them was tinged with worry. I must have been too transparent in my management of my own grief.

I was saved from trying to cover my thoughts by Lion-O, who apparently had been watching our interplay. The young lion had been quite protective of me since I had finally been released from Pumyra's prison, I mean, sickbay.

"There are more of the gardens to see," Lion-O said and pointed to the far side of the courtyard. "Snarf has planted a fruit section to honor the Snarves back on his homeworld. BenGali and Pumyra have started an herb garden." Lion-O continued the tour as we walked through the court.

For such a small space, each Thunderian clan was well represented. Tygra had used lilies to honor his brethren; Panthro had chosen a tree called a Japanese maple and had surrounded the main area with smaller plants that resembled miniature trees. Lion-O called it the art of bonsai. Even Lynx-O's section held plants reminiscent of him, a sensitive plant that reacted to touch. We ended the tour at Lion-O's section.

"I decided to use these bushes to honor my parents. Be careful," he warned, as I reached to take a large blossom in my hand to smell the fragrance.

His warning came too late as a sharp thorn dug into my skin. I growled softly and pulled my hand away quickly inspecting the damage. A pinprick of blood pooled into a drop on my finger. Before I could even manage to do more than look, Lion-O had snagged my hand and was inspecting the wound. The lion's protectiveness was growing on my overtaxed nerves, and I pulled away. "It is just a scratch," I hissed, "I'm not going to bleed to death."

The words had tumbled out of my mouth before my brain had a chance to analyze much less filter them. The harshness of my statement was only magnified by the stricken look on the lion's face. "Jabari," I swore under my breath; _would I never learn?_ "That was stupid; I'm sorry."

It took Lion-O a moment to recover from my outburst, and another fraction of a second to accept my gauze wrapped hand on his forearm as contrition. He looked at me, directly into my eyes. Whenever he did that I felt as if he were searching my soul for answers I was unable to give. "We almost lost you," he spoke softly almost as if the words would wound more than the plant had. "I don't ever want to come that close again."

The intensity of his gaze, his words, made me take a step back, physically. When had we become, whatever this was? Searching for more distance, I purposefully changed topics. "What are they?" I asked pointing at the lovely blossoms with the thorns hidden on their stems.

Lion-O looked long and hard at me. For a moment, I was not sure that he would answer. Even when he did, his voice told me that we were not done with our conversation, that he would revisit the topic and soon. "They are roses; a shrub that bears abundant blossoms and can have a wide variety of colors and fragrances. They also have thorns as you found out firsthand."

My lips quirked slightly to his use of words, but they immediately returned to neutral as I realized that he had not intended the pun. "They remind me of the waridi plant back on Thundera. Didn't the royal family have a whole garden dedicated to that shrub?"

Lion-O smiled at a memory. "Yes, we did, and that is why I chose this plant in particular. My father would always request that we have fresh cut waridi branches at the dining table. I remember that I would spend hours in the gardens helping Snarf and Silas chose the best flowers. I would even hide among the plants and jump out and scare poor Snarf. Of course, the flowers back on Thundera were a little less violent than they are here." He glanced at me, his eyes straying quickly to my thorn punctured finger and then lingering on my gauze wrapped hand before returning to my own eyes.

We were not going to let this issue go. I braced myself for a lecture or at least a formal suggestion of discussing my most recent faux pas, but my preparation was for naught. Lion-O cast his gaze behind me at something else.

"We are ready; if you are," Pumyra interrupted, much to my relief.

Lion-O lowered his head in a barely audible sigh. I knew that he wanted to continue our conversation, but it appeared that he would have to grant me a reprieve. "We'll be on our way in just a moment," he answered.

Pumyra nodded her head and headed back to the Acinonyx part of the gardens as quietly as she had arrived. Lion-O gestured for me to precede him. I took a step and faltered. Suddenly, I wasn't sure if this were a reprieve or a punishment of its own.

Sensing my hesitation, the lion reached out and touched my shoulder. "Is this too soon?"

_Too soon?_ My head spun. It was a simple question that had a very complicated answer. After I had awoken in sickbay, I had remembered everything: Kijani's death, the demise of my whole clan, and finally the most devastating of all, the loss of the twins. I had dealt with the first two issues after we had landed on Third Earth. Well, that wasn't the most accurate description of my handling of those events, but I still considered the loss of my mate and clan as being addressed nonetheless. It was the twins, my own flesh and blood, that I had not remembered, and it was the repression of the knowledge that I had been pregnant, that I had not done my best to protect my offspring that had driven me past the breaking point. It was also the even that had led to me almost bleeding out in the Cat's head of the Lair.

Lion-O's dream of Thundera and our surviving clansmen and his involving me in finding them had brought forth my own breakthrough memories. I couldn't figure out how to deal with the truth and coincide it with who I was as a ThunderCat. The road to recovery had been fraught with tears, anger, and regret. I hadn't even come close to scratching the surface.

It was Pumyra who had suggested a ceremony to memorialize my offspring. It was a custom of the Puma clan, especially among the healers, to help the grieving process by holding a ceremony of closure. Lion-O had been taken with the notion, and after my consent, given under the duress of pleasing the Lord of the ThunderCats although he had no idea, he had put forth the plans for the event.

It had become even more of an undertaking for the others since an infection had set into my hand keeping me in the sickbay for more than a week. Thus, this whole memorial had taken place with little input from me. I wasn't sure how this would aid in my grief process, yet I didn't have the heart to stop the proceedings. This gave the others a chance to do something, and I would not take that purpose from them.

I realized that Lion-O was looking at me expectantly and that I had yet to give him an answer. I shook my head slightly to clear the muddle of my thoughts and looked back at him. "Too soon?" I repeated.

He looked at me worriedly but did not interrupt.

I ran my good hand through my hair in an attempt to gather my courage or perhaps buy some more time before answering, "I think, too much time has already passed. But, I would be lying to you if I told you that I was looking forward to this.

"By my own actions, I have invited all of you to share in my painful memories. It is not an invitation I can now revoke." I held my hand up to stop Lion-O from speaking. "I wouldn't shut any of you out now anyway, but I am, have been for three Third Earth solar years, a private individual when it comes to my personal life. You remember Wizz-Ra?"

I watched the lion nodded his head. There was a flash of something else in his eyes at my odd segue, but it disappeared before I could explore it further. Since bringing about Lion-O's feeling on the ancient wizard had not been my original intent, I let it go. "I didn't tell you all about Wizz-Ra until it was almost too late. I made that mistake with Kijani, never telling him," my voice caught in my throat, and I again felt the sting in my heart and the tears suddenly threatening in my eyes.

Lion-O took another step toward me, but I waved him off. If I couldn't get through a simple conversation with him, then perhaps it was too soon. "I will not make that mistake ever again. But, that doesn't mean that this is easy for me."

"I know," Lion-O acknowledged and slid a gentle hand across my shoulders. It was the small bolster of comfort that I needed to get my feet to start moving in the direction of the small assembly of ThunderCats near the Acinonyx section of the garden.

* * *

I stared at the small box in my hands. Panthro had designed the box using a special metal that he had found embedded in one of the large chunks of Thundrillium ore. The element was light but moldable and guaranteed not to rust unlike like the steel that the Berbils used on some of their vessels. Panthro said the Berbils called the metal aluminum and that while it could be crushed fairly easily, he had found a way to construct the box to be durable as well as to protect the contents inside from the elements.

_The inside. _My hands trembled slightly as I gently touched the two miniature gold charms that lay on a velvet cloth. On one side was the symbol of the ThunderCats; on the other was etched the Acinonyx Clan crest. BenGali had worked the design into the charms that Tygra had smelted and cast.

Pumyra had created two sachets of herbs that had a pleasing, restful scent. Next to the herbs were three iridescent stones. Lion-O and Lynx-O had gone to Hook Mountain into the abandoned Mines of the Mystic Chasm and brought back the crystals. These were more than ordinary rocks. If one were psychic, which I am told I am, one could imprint the stones with a psychic memory. Lynx-O promised he would aid me in creating a special impression on the stones at a later time. I guess, he could sense my slowly shutting down from the overwhelming events unfolding before me.

Snarf and Wily Kat had already planted the three seedling forget-me-nots to honor Kijani and the twins. I was glad that they had done so without my aid. I would not have been very effective trying to dig with the gauze still wrapped around my healing hand, and Pumyra would not have looked kindly on my getting her dressing dirty either especially after the infection.

The ThunderCats must have all seen the wisdom in giving me space. They had stood for a while in silence before the beautiful sculpture that BenGali had created. Tygra and Snarfer had augmented the base of the statue to cast an eternal flame. The endless light was constructed by burning the exhaust gases of some of Cat's Lair's systems. It made for a surreal but peaceful retreat.

As each ThunderCat paid his or her respects, a white rose was laid at the base of the statue near the flame. Nine roses currently lay before me. Slowly, I set the box in my hands into the ground. I took one last look at the contents and began to lower the lid when I heard a soft cough behind me. I turned to see Kit standing almost in the shadows. I had been so lost in my thoughts, my grief, that I had not noticed that she was still present.

"I, I hope you don't mind," the young Felis stammered. She suddenly looked much younger than her age, "but I went into the archives to look into the Acinonyx Clan history."

I was silent for a moment digesting the information. I was the keeper of the archives. Kit had not told me that she was going to use them. To go behind my back, not get permission, was a major infraction. Even if I had been laid up as I was in sickbay, she still should have asked for permission. "I see," I commented, even though I clearly did not.

"Here." Kit thrust a rolled up piece of paper reminiscent of a scroll into my hands. Without another word, she laid her rose on the others and practically ran from the courtyard.

I watched the young wildcat disappear into the darkness of the edges of the garden before turning my attention to my hands. Carefully, I removed the small scrap of cloth tying the parchment closed and unrolled it. My eyes fell on familiar greens staring back at me. Even immortalized on paper, those emeralds seemed to see beyond me, stare into my soul. In shock, I dropped the paper, which floated gently to the ground to lay against the still opened memorial box. Unable to support me, my legs gave out, and I found myself on my knees staring into the face of my mate, Kijani.

Pain, fresh and raw, ran through me upon seeing him, whole, once more. It was the pain of loss, loss with which I thought I had come to terms, but apparently that had been a convenient lie I had told myself. Of their own accord, my trembling hands reached out and touched the paper. It was a two-dimension surface, but I desperately wished for it to be three-dimensional. To touch him once more, have the chance to tell him…

The barriers of my composure disintegrated, and I fell to the ground, prostrate, weeping from my heart, for my heart. In the recesses of my grief-clouded mind, I suddenly understood the willow legend more than I thought possible.

I didn't register the hands that scooped me from the earth or the warmth of the body that held my pain-wracked body. I just poured myself from the inside out.

Eventually the respite of numbness came, and I was able to orient myself to my surroundings. Slowly, I pulled away from Lion-O's embrace. I didn't have the courage to look at him, nor did I have the strength to move from my half-kneeling, half-reclining position. Without words, the lion helped me to sit in a more comfortable position.

We sat there in the gardens for a long time, neither of us willing to break our shared silence. Eventually, Lion-O leaned over and picked up the portrait of Kijani. He was beginning to roll it closed when I reached out to stop him.

"She did an incredible job," I said, not recognizing the raw voice as my own.

Lion-O's hand stilled under mine. It was strange. Sometime when we inadvertently touched I would have the oddest sensations between us. I'd feel as if I could understand him even without words. Other times, I could get no sense from the lion at all. Now was one of those times. I could not read him even if I had control of my sixth sense.

"Is this Kijani?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied and finally looked into the young lord's face. I was surprised to see a mirror of my own sorrow etched indelibly across his face. I couldn't seem to stop myself, and my hand grazed against his cheek. I was surprised to find the fine fur of his face was damp as well. Had he shed tears along with me?

Lion-O closed his eyes briefly at my touch, and he reached one of his hands to close around mine. He lowered our hands to rest against his thigh. Squeezing my fingers gently, he then slid his hand from my grasp. I felt almost bereft at the lack of physical contact, but I refrained from reaching for him again. Perhaps I had pushed the bounds of our friendship too far.

"Tell me about him, about your life before this," Lion-O's hands gestured to the courtyard and Cat's Lair, but I knew what he meant.

With no more prompting I began to tell him of Kijani, of Thundera, through the eyes of a young cheetah. The stories seemed to pour out of me like a dam that had to release its water or be doomed to breaking. I told him the story of Kijani's and my first meeting. How Kijani had dared me into a race. How I had beaten him fair and square. I told him of the Acinonyx Clan trials to become eligible for the Thunderian guard, the ThunderCats. I told him about my mating, how my brother, Cheterex, had tried to hide me away. The silly pranks that Kijani and Chet would play on each other, with each other against me.

The moon was fading into early dawn before I realized that we had spent the whole night in the courtyard listening to stories of my life. I was surprised at the number of times we laughed. I was even more surprised by the sudden lightness I felt within my spirit. Perhaps, Pumyra had been correct. By looking into my life, sharing it and allowing it to be what it was, I had made room for a future.

Without warning, a burst of laser fire shook the earth at our feet. The blast had been so close, my ears rang with the explosion, and my nose stung with the acrid smell of burning earth. We had been lounging on the ground near the Acinonyx statue, but within moments, we were both on our feet with weapons held in defense.

A Sky Cutter sliced through the lightening sky as it readied for another pass. I saw a volley of return fire shoot through the air from the Cat's eyes. Obviously, Panthro or Tygra, I had no idea who was on watch, was not about to allow an attack on our home go unanswered.

"Cheetara!"

I didn't have time to register more than the voice, as a large shoulder slammed into my solar plexus and pushed me from my feet onto the grassy earth. Wind was forced from my lungs with the ungraceful landing, and I was momentarily stunned.

Lion-O had only a moment to look me over before lunging to his feet. "Ho!" came the shout from the young leader, and a resounding growling flash of the Sword of Omen's raw power split the dawning sky landing a direct hit on the second Sky Cutter that had shot at me, missing me by inches. Lion-O continued his counterattack, still keeping me in the vicinity of his protection as I regained my breath.

I looked to the spot where I had been standing, from where Lion-O had flung me, us, to safety. The lightness that had filled my waning spirit fled as I stared at the charred remains of the beautiful Acinonyx statue fragmented into a heap of rubble. Beneath the debris was the box, still opened and now filled with dirt and crumbled rock. Where the flame had burned now were two fires, one putting itself out, the other flaming to heights that were never intended.

"No," I screamed, as I saw the lingering second flame. I ran to the spot with the swiftness for which I am known, but it was too late. I kicked at the flame attempting to put it out, but the beautiful oils that Kit had used in her drawing of Kijani worked as an accelerant. Only ash remained as the fire died at my feet.

Fury filled my brain banishing all thoughts. I could taste the anger, bitter and metallic. Without thought, my bow staff sprang to full length, and I vaulted into the air. My target was the Nose Diver just cresting the far wall. My aim was true. I landed hard on the tip of the vehicle's nose. My weight threw the machine off mark, and I back flipped off the craft to land safely on the ledge of wall while the craft careened with a glancing blow into the northwest corner of the Lair.

My eyes narrowed in anger as the pilot of the Nose Diver righted the vehicle and managed to resume another attack. I caught the sight of green scales, and my previous anger turned to molten rage.

_S-Slithe_, my brain seemed to sing the name as a mantra. _Murderer!_ He was the one responsible for the attack on the Flagship, for the destruction of my clan, my mate. Hate seeped into my brain, and I allowed the emotion to take over my thoughts, my actions. Today the reptilian would pay for his transgressions.

I squared off with the machine. My intentions were clear. A volley of laser fire aimed at where I had been standing scorched the wall. I was no longer there. Instead of jumping backward to avoid the weapon's deadly intent, I launched myself into the path of the vehicle, expertly weaving around the micro-explosions. The lasers were so close I could feel the heat, smell the fur on my arms as it was singed by the blasts.

I felt the corners of my mouth twist into a smile that was anything but pleasant as I came hard at the reptile. The surprise was written on his face. I could see the yellows of his eyes grow wide with terror. The last thing he expected was a kamikaze counterattack.

At the last possible second, the cowardly reptilian veered to the right. I was only able to land a glancing blow on the control panel before the vehicle skittered into a sideways slide and then, by some unholy miracle, righted itself before blazing away, spewing a trail of noxious smoke behind it.

The jolt of the impact of my staff with the controls of the Nose Diver jarred my shoulder; I barely managed to let go of the bo before it could shattered my bones. The sudden slippage of the vehicle tossed me to the side like a rag doll flung by an irritated cub. I landed hard against the Lair's west side. I barely managed to twist my body so that my head didn't take the brunt of the impact. As it were, my skull suffered a glancing blow that brought eclipsing stars to my eyes.

The sounds of battle kept me conscious, and I staggered to my feet from were I had been thrown. The mutants had brought their reinforcements. There were caches of canidae, reptiles, and simians. Only the avians appeared to be absent from the skirmish, probably holding down the fort in the unlikely chance of an attack on their home turf.

Lion-O came to my side, hitting a mutant, jackal, I think, as he came over the edge of one of the bushes toward me. The canine recoiled with the blow that the lion landed on his snout and scampered away on all fours, in fright, at the larger cat's presence.

"Are you okay?" Lion-O asked, sparing a moment to check me over, before reassessing the battlefield. I looked out at the fray as well. It appeared that the rest of the ThunderCats had the battle well in hand. We heard the command for a retreat, and then as quickly as they had arrived the mutants fled the grounds of the Lair.

"You didn't answer my question," Lion-O prompted again.

"No," I responded purposefully using ambiguity and walking to retrieve my bo staff. I glanced over the weapon pleased to see that it had weathered the battle probably better than I.

I could feel the lion following close behind me, his gaze burning into my back. It was unlikely that he would allow my answer to stand with no more explanation. Collapsing the bo staff and securing it back into my arm cuff, I took a moment to look at the damage the mutants had wreaked.

Even in the absence of Mumm-Ra, those miserable creatures would refuse us a peaceful existence. My eyes fell to the ruined gardens the memorials to our loved ones, trampled, destroyed. A burning pain triggered deep inside my brain. _No more._

Very carefully, I removed the ThunderCat emblem from my bodice. I had been right the weeks before this when I had attempted to give Lion-O the insignia. I was not worthy to wear the symbol of honor.

Words begging his understanding and forgiveness died on my lips as I turned once more to the ruined monument. The mutants had destroyed the Acinonyx Clan that fateful day that Thundera had been obliterated. I had not known that then. I had tried to live up to something, anything to keep my clan's spirit alive. But it had been for naught. I would no longer stand in this stalemate. I would no longer allow my fellow Thunderians continue to wage a winless war. This would end today.

"No, Lion-O," I said, surprised at how clear my voice rang. I knelt in front of the lion and placed the ThunderCat emblem at his feet. I knew that the lion would refuse me again, so this time I would not even try to hand it to him. "I'm not okay, but I soon will be."

Not waiting for his reaction, refusing to be dissuaded from a mission I knew I must complete, I ran. My ears heard him call out, call my name. The pleading tone in his voice carried on the wind behind me, but I refused to listen. I did not have that luxury, not anymore.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

**Acinonyx** -- Cheetah species/clan

**Kijani** - Cheetara's mate - Swahili origin, means green

**Legend of the Weeping Willow:** paraphrased from geocities internet /whisperingwillowacres/Legend.html

**Weeping Willow information:** borrowed from geocities internet /whisperingwillowacres/WeepingWillow.html

**Felis** clan designated for Wily Kit and Kat

**Kanu**: Wily Kit and Kat's father. Swahili origin means wild cat or genet

**Katika:** Wily Kit and Kat's mother. Swahili (Sheng) origin means dance

**Jabari** - used as an Acinonyx curse, Swahili origin means, God

**waridi** - Swahili origin rose


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

**Red Sky at Morning**

* * *

_Red sky in morning, sailor's warning: A red sunrise reflects the dust particles of a system that has just passed from the west. This indicates that a storm system may be moving to the east. If the morning sky is a deep fiery red, it means a high water content in the atmosphere. So, rain is on its way – from www.loc.gov/rr/scitech/mysteries/weather-sailor.html_

* * *

"Cheetara," I yelled, "Wait, please!" I knew it was too late as the golden hue of her super speed brightened and then dissolved on the horizon.

"No," my voice dropped to a pleading whisper. _How could she do this, again? _ My head screamed, warring with the excuses manufactured from my heart. _After all the time we had just spent, learning, healing, she had just thrown it away! _

I looked back at the recent destruction caused by the mutant attack. The memorial gardens had suffered the worst of the damage; the Acinonyx section had been the hardest hit. There was nothing left.

My own anger flared, mixing with and superseding my disappointment with Cheetara's impetuousness. Had I not been so concerned, I would have laughed at my assessment of the cheetah. It was I who was known for going off half-cocked, not she; she had always been the voice of reason.

Spinning on my heels, I started to head in the same direction that she had. She was so blinded by the situation, acting rashly; she would need help. I had managed two steps when the air in front of me shimmered with the light of an astral projection. "Jaga!" I called in surprise, coming up just short of where he appeared.

"You cannot go, Lion-O," my mentor instructed. While his face, as always, seemed impassive, I could sense that the spirit too was greatly troubled by the events that had just occurred. It was for that fact alone that I didn't disregard his command outright.

"But, she is in trouble," I argued, trying to sound like the rational leader I wished to be.

"It is a situation of her own creation." Jaga held up a hand to stop me from interrupting him. "She has released herself from the Code of Thundera. She knows that her pursuit of the mutants is not based on justice but vengeance. She is aware that what she is doing is wrong; why else would she abandon the Code?"

I couldn't answer him, but the feelings welling up within me must have been quite transparent because Jaga continued, "The others are looking to you for guidance, Lion-O; if you pursue Cheetara, aid her in her ill-advised quest, what of them? Our Code is what we are; without it, we are no better than the mutants she hunts.

"Cheetara chose her destiny; you must remain true to your own." With those ambiguous words, my advisor gathered up his gossamer cape and vanished into the morning light.

Helpless frustration reared through my mind, even if Jaga were right, which part of me believed him to be, how could we ignore Cheetara and her actions. Was she justified? Had she had an active choice in her destiny? I thought back to the stories she had shared with me. My mind drifted even further to her self-destruction in the Cat's head; could I live with myself if I let her go?

_I can't._ Giving in to my own impulsivity, I again began moving in the direction that the cheetah had gone. This time it was a hand on my shoulder that gave me pause.

"Lion-O." I halted and turned to face my striped second-in-command. "Jaga is correct; we cannot just follow the Code when it suits our purposes."

It was only because I recognized the pain in the tiger's face that I did not take physical action against him. Tygra knew Cheetara better than I, in so many ways. Her decision to forego her oath must be causing him to wage his own private war as well.

"Just because she no longer wears the insignia of the ThunderCats, doesn't make her stop being one!" I reasoned. "I won't abandon her just because of that." I didn't care that my voice carried more emotion than that of a leader protecting his comrades.

Tygra's eyes tightened in response to my words. "I care about her too," he growled, making sure that I would not dismiss what he had to say or believe that his words were so easily said. "The Eye of Thundera cannot be used for evil. What she is doing is wrong; you cannot endorse it. It would be the downfall of everything we have fought to achieve, everything for which _**she**_ has fought."

"So we just turn our backs," I fumed, my hands pushing through my mane. I had to do something with them lest I hit something. "What about the _loyalty_ part of the Code?"

Tygra's head bowed for a second before he looked me straight in the eyes. "We cannot pick and choose what parts of the Code to follow either. She gave you her emblem. She knows that what she is doing goes against the ThunderCat oath."

"Do you mean to leave her to fend for herself?" I couldn't believe that her friend would so willingly give up on her.

"No," Tygra answered. "I'm telling you what needs to be said, what needs to be known. If you chose to go after Cheetara, you must not do so as the Lord of the ThunderCats. By going in such capacity, you compel the others to act."

I stared at Tygra; his words had shocked me. "Are you saying that to go after Cheetara I have to give up my title? I'm going after her to stop her from doing something she'll regret not to condone her actions."

Tygra took a deep breath and held it for a moment before answering me. "In this case, being the Lord of the ThunderCats and being Cheetara's friend are mutually exclusive."

I glanced back at the horizon, the last place I had seen her. The dawning light had broken with a sunrise of brilliant red. I didn't have time for this, to argue the semantics and politics that Tygra was trying to get me to understand. She was way ahead of me now. I needed to act.

"Fine," I hissed in resignation and pulled the Sword of Omens from its resting place on the claw shield against my left thigh. "You will act in my stead, while I go take care of Cheetara, our friend." I knew I didn't have to put in that last jab, but I couldn't stop myself. I wanted Tygra to know how I really felt about all of this.

I saw the hesitation in Tygra's eyes, in the slowness of his reaching for the proffered sword. This was obviously something he hadn't quite expected me to do. Heck, I wasn't even sure that it was something I had expected in myself.

A blur of reddish-orange, yellow, and white came racing from the main door leading to the courtyard. "Lion-O, for Thundera's sake, what are you doing?" Snarf sputtered in a rush of words and fur as he charged down the stairs to my feet.

"I'm going after Cheetara," I answered, surprised at how steady my voice sounded considering all that was happening.

"But, but, the sword," Snarf stuttered and pointed to the small, inactive dagger now soundly resting in Tygra's hand. "You can't go charging out without the sword, snarf, snarf."

"I have no choice," I answered and turned to start in the direction Cheetara had headed, knowing that by now my chances were even slimmer in catching her before she did something she would regret. I felt an unfamiliar pain in my heart at that somber thought. _Would we lose everything before it had even begun?_

"Tygra, brrr, give him back the sword," Snarf implored. I could hear the concern, the faint worried, anger tinting his voice as I continued to walk away, unarmed.

"I can't, Snarf," Tygra answered. The voice was softer, indicating that the tiger had turned away. I guess that he was refusing to watch me go, to excuse my behavior.

"But, but, Panthro? WilyKit, Kat? Somebody do something!" Snarf's voice was taking on a wail of desperation. I had no choice but to turn around and settle him. He could not influence the others. That had been the whole point of my relinquishing the sword in the first place.

"Snarf," I halted and lowered myself to kneel so that I would be at his height. The furry creature, who had raised me since I was a cub, hurled into me, practically knocking me over.

"I'm going after Cheetara, Snarf. It is something I have to do."

"Then I'm going with you."

"You can't."

"Just you watch me," he huffed, but a familiar rumble filling the air overshadowed his challenge.

The hulking form of the Thundertank pulled up along side of us. "Ho, Lion-O!" Panthro called from the driver's seat.

"Panthro," I called back and looked at the unexpected vehicle still running smoothly.

"Are you coming?" the panther asked, hitching his thumb in the direction of the empty seat. "Cheetara has quite a head start. We're going to need to go full-throttle if we are going to catch up with her."

I launched myself into a perfect back flip and landed in the passenger seat next to him. "Are you sure?"

Panthro didn't need any clarification as to what I was really referring. "I'm sure," he answered, his voice an equal measure of concern and resignation. "Don't be so hard on him. He is doing what he has to."

I looked over my shoulder at the form of Tygra. The tiger looked years older than he truly was. I suddenly realized that his stepping up to take the mantel as acting Lord of the ThunderCats had been the greatest gift he could have given me.

"I won't," I promised.

"Hold down the fort," I addressed Snarf.

Wasting no more time, Panthro threw the throttle fully forward, and we took off with an impressive press of g-force and a plume of dust to match.

As the panther piloted the tank over obstacles in our path, I fingered the controls to bring up the locator chip embedded in Cheetara's staff. A blip finally registered on the screen as we roared through the Plains of Fertility. I homed the frequency and muttered, "She's already crossed the River of Despair."

In response, Panthro turned sharply to the southeast, a trajectory that would put us at the Bridge of Slime, the only overpass on this side of the river. The change in direction threw us both hard against the cushions, but I also heard an odd thump in the cargo bay. Sliding the partition separating the cockpit from the rest of the tank, I looked in to investigate.

Surprised, I called out, "WilyKit?"

At my announcement, Panthro immediately decelerated the tank to a hard stop and started the sequence to open the back. I had to grab the dashboard to keep my head from cracking against the control panel. WilyKit wasn't so lucky. She flew forward and impacted against the bulkhead. At least, she had had the presence of mind to roll with the momentum.

"Yeow," the female wildcat called out. Using our seatbacks, she pulled herself upright and rubbed her shoulder. "Where on Third Earth did you learn to drive?"

"Don't you go putting this on me," Panthro snarled, as he whirled around to face the stowaway.

Rather than look chastened, the teenager crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at him defiantly.

* * *

_This wasn't good,_ I decided, as I looked up at the two older males glaring at me from the front seat. Well, only one was really older. Lion-O and I had actually been almost the same age before his transformation from the malfunctioning, suspension capsule, but I was digressing in my thoughts. Nope, they were both pretty mad. Oh well, time to go on the offensive.

"Sorry, Panthro," I mumbled, and I was. I was sorry that I had gotten caught hiding in the cargo hold but not for tagging along.

"We have to go back," Panthro growled and prepared to reverse the tank.

"No," both Lion-O and I called out at the same time. I was surprised that he would stand up for me, but his next statement showed his support wasn't for my initiative but for tactical reasons.

"We've already wasted too much time," he continued and glanced back at the grid mapping Cheetara's position. A frown crossed his face, and I leaned forward across the seats so that I could see why he suddenly looked so worried, well more worried than he had before this whole mission had started.

"What's the matter?" Panthro asked. He must have seen the change in the lion too.

"It's not moving."

"That's good, right?" I piped in. I mean if Cheetara were stationary than we had a better chance of catching up to her.

"No," Lion-O answered.

"Buckle up, Kit," Panthro ordered.

Knowing that his tone brooked no argument and that I had, at least, won my time onboard even if it were temporary, I scrambled to a jump seat in the back and clicked the harness across my chest. The buckle had scarcely connected before we took off for the previous heading. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that the tank was moving even faster than before.

The wind whipped at my face and pushed my hair into my eyes. I kept the discomfort to myself and simply swiped the tendrils out of my face. I didn't want to complain, didn't really want to draw any more attention to myself than I already had.

I watched the trees of the Forrest of Silence pass by in a rush on our left. I could smell the faint sweet flowers from the Garden of Delights on our right. The subtle floral scents quickly gave way to damp, boggy earth, and the landscape changed to that of a riverbank.

I leaned forward in my safety harness to peer into the depths of the murky River of Despair, and a chill ran over my fur. Where the day was bright and sunny, the river waters ran dark and gloomy. I almost expected to see the Black Widow Shark leap from the depths and attempt to take on the tank. Another shiver ran down my spine as I remembered my last, and only, encounter with the guardian of the river. Kat and I were lucky that we had only lost one spaceboard.

Even though that was over three years ago, the memory of that beast still gave me the occasional nightmare. I was never the one it was after though, usually it was Kat.

However now that we had found Pumyra, Bengali, and Lynx-O, that particular nightmare had changed, merged with another. Now, the nightmare featured Mom. I was always amazed at how clearly I could picture her. That is probably why this particular dream had always felt so real.

Mom would be dancing on the Bridge of Light. She would have just finished an amazing pirouette that placed her directly in the center of the bridge. Then, the lights would fade. A large, ominous, black whirlpool would form in the center of the river, and with this as the only warning, the Black Widow Shark would attack. Watching the light bridge crumble into a million prisms, I would stand helpless on the shore. Mom would fall. She would make no sound, no scream, just fall, flipping gracefully in the air, into the jaws of the shark, and I would wake as those horrible teeth closed around her.

I jerked in reflex as I realized that my eyes had closed with the memory of the nightmare. I took a deep breath, thankful for the roar of the tank to hide the gasp of horror that had pulled me from my reverie, but I was even more thankful for the stinging wind as an excuse for the tears brimming in my eyes.

"Just a dream, Kit," I muttered to myself, again glad for the loud engines masking my voice.

The smells from the river were becoming more stagnant, and I realized that we had just about made it to the Bridge of Slime. When it came to crossing the River of Despair, there were four options: swim or submerge, and given my experience with the shark, not an option I or any of the other ThunderCats would take voluntarily; fly, not an option in the ThunderTank, unless Panthro had made modifications of which I was unaware; or drive or walk across one of the two bridges. Since we were too far away from the Bridge of Light, we were going to have to cross the Bridge of Slime.

My nose scrunched with the decaying odor of vegetation and standing water. We weren't just close; we were practically on top of it. Panthro slowed to a stop in front of the green covered arch. It was too small for both of the treads of the tank.

With the tank stopped, I unbuckled my restraint and moved to the cockpit. Lion-O tapped the control panel again where the blip representing Cheetara's location remained steady. "What now?" I asked, reminding the two men that I was still a participant in this endeavor.

"We hoof it," Panthro answered and catapulted out of the tank. Lion-O and I exchanged a look and followed suit. By the time we reached the panther, he was already leaning down to examine the bridge.

"This stuff is viscous but as slippery as ice." He pulled a strand of the muck off of the stone and rubbed it between his fingers.

"And, it smells awful," I added, my voice taking on a funny grate as I pinched my nose closed to stop the odor from making me gag.

"That it does," Lion-O agreed, as he surveyed the only passage to the other side. "Cheetara must have come this way." He pointed to a divot in the earth near the beginning of the bridge. "It looks like she vaulted using her staff."

I looked at the hole that Cheetara's staff had formed in the bank. She must have been really moving to create such a cavity. My gaze drifted across the river to the other shore. Two footprints were clearly embedded in the river mud. A small sigh of relief went through my body. She had made it across without incident it seemed.

"Well," Panthro stood from his spot, "you're the expert in this, Lion-O. What is the best way to cross?"

Lion-O looked at the chasm that the arch bridged. "Well, I don't think we should try and swim. Last time I was here a large, two-headed, sea creature decided I'd make a good snack, and if he's not around, there is a good chance that the Black Widow Shark may be making rounds as well."

I shuddered involuntarily at that reminder. Lion-O must have noticed my reaction because he quirked a sympathetic look in my direction before continuing. "The surface is very hard to get a decent grip. I have my claw shield, but you two…" he left the statement open. Neither Panthro nor I carried anything that would aid us in a climb over the gunk coating the bridge unless you counted our claws.

As I tried to come up with a solution, my hand started to fiddle with the pouch of pellets that Kat and I both carry. "I wonder," I said out loud as my fingers curled around two of the chemical pellets that we had been working on with Tygra.

"What is it, Kit?" Lion-O encouraged.

"Well, I don't know if it will work. We haven't even tested it yet, but we've been trying to design a defensive weapon by distilling some of the chemicals found in Acid Lake. Maybe I can dissolve the goo?"

"It's worth a shot," Panthro nodded to me.

Taking aim, I threw the first of the two pellets onto the bridge, hitting it dead center. The result was anticlimactic as nothing happened other than a colorful burst of yellow mist. "Okay, now for the catalyst," I explained and threw the second pellet. It too hit is mark spraying a fine red mist on impact with the overpass. Once again, nothing happened.

Disappointment setting in, I turned away. "I guess, it failed the test," I sighed.

"Don't be so sure," Lion-O corrected me. Sure enough a gurgling sound reached my ears. I quickly turned back to look. An orange liquid was slowly enveloping the green ooze. Bare patches of stone were starting to peek through the remnants of goop and chemicals.

"It worked," I cried out gleefully. I couldn't contain myself, and I jumped in the air, laughing while I clapped my hands in celebration of my success.

"Yes, but for how long?" Panthro asked as he pointed to the bridge. Even though the chemicals had eaten through the slime, a new coating was almost immediately growing to take its place.

"Let's go ThunderCats," the panther urged and led the charge across the recuperating arch. By the time we had crossed the passage, it was once again covered in a thick layer of sludge.

Once he had caught his breath from our frantic sprint, Lion-O praised, "Well-done, WilyKit."

"Yes, indeed," Panthro agreed.

My face heated at the praise. "Maybe it was a good thing that I decided to come along after all," I suggested and watched the panther's face set into the scowl I knew and loved.

"Where to?" I asked, quickly diverting the rant I could see starting to brew on Panthro's face at my remark.

"Well, unless she's on the move again, her last coordinates put her within the Treasure Ruins," Lion-O answered and started in the direction of the ancient building remains.

I walked behind the lion and kept my eyes peeled. This section of Third Earth was by far one of the creepier sections in my book. It wasn't because it overlooked the silent black pyramid, Mumm-Ra's old home, and it wasn't that Third Earth was lacking in places more dangerous or deadly. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was about this place that set my fur on edge. It was a feeling of wrongness that I could not describe.

I don't know if my twin agreed with me. We never spoke about it, nor did either of us use our mutual dislike of this particular area against the other. This was a place that neither one of us ever dared the other to go.

Gooseflesh prickled beneath my fur and caused the hackles on the back of my neck to rise in subliminal anticipation of an unknown danger. "Lion-O," I whispered, edging closer to him.

"I know, Kit," he whispered back; I could hear the same urgency in his voice, mirroring mine.

We came to a large building blocking our path. It almost seemed to as if it had been set there on purpose. Lion-O motioned to Panthro, pantomiming that we should split up, each take a side. Stealthily, the panther disengaged his nunchakus, holding them defensively as he slid silently down the wall to the other side of the edifice. My hand traveled to my pouch as I shadowed Lion-O around the other corner.

We skirted the building with no incident, regrouping with Panthro in the front. Still on edge, we continued on our way to what had probably been the main plaza. Broken remnants of what once must have been beautifully architected buildings surrounded this open area; now only a crumbling limestone floor remained. These were the only signs left of a civilization long past. Nothing existed here, or was supposed to.

My eyes caught the glimpse of a faint coil of smoke, rising from something loosely resembling a machine. My hand left the comfort of my weapon pouch and latched onto Lion-O's forearm. Saying nothing, I pointed to the wreckage still smoldering in the center of what had once most likely been a fountain.

"Gods of Thundera," Lion-O hissed, as he looked at the smoking rubble and then ran full tilt toward it.

"Lion-O," I called to the running lion. It was then that I saw what he must have already seen.

"Panthro," I screamed as I took off after Lion-O. I didn't have to look at the panther. I could hear his footsteps behind me, see him as he sped past me.

* * *

"Lion-O, stop," I ordered and grabbed the lion, tossing him away from the hot scrap metal that he was tearing through with his bare hands.

"Get off of me," the lion roared.

I gave him a little room to maneuver and instantly regretted the allowance as his large fist slammed into my cheek. I saw stars as my head not only made impact with his knuckles but also rebounded to hit the ground. Stunned, I loosened my tenuous hold on him and felt him slide easily out of my grip.

"Jabari!" Lion-O hissed, breathing hard. "I'm sorry, Panthro."

Even though I registered that he had used an Acinonyx curse, I didn't say anything. I was too busy trying to focus my eyes to see his outstretched hand as one rather than two. Cautiously, I took the offered assistance and allowed him to pull me to my feet. I shook my head slightly and looked at him. "Mavi, Lion-O, where'd you learn to hit like that?" I rubbed at my aching face.

"From you, old friend," he replied. I watched him turn away to look back at the wreckage that had started all of this. "It's S-Slithe's Nose Diver."

"Yeah," I agreed, although the twisted hulk of metal didn't look anything like the vehicle that had attacked us this morning. "You want to tell me what got you so riled you came up swinging?"

The lion was silent, as he took a couple of steps toward the rubble.

"Lion-O," I warned, as I watched him carefully use his boot to scoot a piece of metal away from the rest of the debris. He waved me off and then bent down to retrieve what he had freed. It was a soot-streaked, foot-long cylinder. His fingers brushed the grime to reveal a golden hue beneath it.

I recognized it instantly. "By Jaga," I hissed in denial, "it can't be."

Lion-O said nothing. He just held the object out to me. I saw the slight tremor in his hand as I took it from him, confirming for myself that it was indeed Cheetara's bo staff. I looked over the weapon, felt along its surface to its jagged tip. "It's broken," I said, stating the obvious. I couldn't seem to keep these simple, these painful, observations to myself. I stepped away to study the remnants of the Nose Diver.

"Do you think?" Kit stopped before completing her thought.

I had already forgotten that she had tagged along with us. Neither Lion-O nor I had candy-coated our words, our thoughts. Kit looked at me and then to Lion-O before she covered her face with her hands and began running in the direction we had come.

"WilyKit!" I called out and turned to follow the distraught teen.

"I'll go," Lion-O intervened, quickly pushing past me.

In less than a few strides, he had bridged the head start WilyKit had created. Even though he had moved quickly past me, I had seen the look in his eyes, on his face; he too thought the worst.

My hand tightened on the shaft of the broken staff as I surveyed the damaged, scratch that, destroyed, mutant vehicle. Cheetara must have slammed the bo into the main fuel supply and then discharged her weapon, igniting the tank and blowing the whole mess to smithereens. The question was what happened after that? Where were the cheetah and the mutant driver?

I sniffed the air picking up on the ozone smell of fried mechanical systems and the acrid scent of burned fuel, but I didn't catch the sickening sweet smell of burned flesh. My nose twitched as the wind shifted. This time I did scent something that was organic.

Fearful of what I might find, I followed my olfaction to an outcropping a few meters from the wreck. Looking down I noticed a dark spot that had been absorbed by the arid ground. I bent down and scraped my fingers against the wet earth and brought them to my nostrils.

"Fresh blood," I acknowledged to myself since no one else was in hearing range, "but not cat blood." That fact gave me a small measure of relief that instantly withered as my rational mind put that observation into perspective.

I heard two sets of footfalls and looked up into the somber faces of Lion-O and WilyKit. I tried not to linger on Kit's face. But even in my cursory glance, I could see that fresh tears had recently streaked down her cheeks. I glanced at Lion-O in unspoken question. His eyes flickered to Kit and then closed momentarily, weighing his decision. When he opened his eyes, he nodded slightly to me.

I pointed to the small, dark patch of wetness I had found. "It's blood," I confirmed and watched Kit as I finished my assessment. "Mutant blood. It looks fresh, but I can't tell you how fresh or when or even if this happened before of after the Nose Diver blew."

I watched Lion-O move his hand to his claw shield and look down when he came up empty. I assumed that he was going to ask the Sword of Omens for sight beyond sight. He lowered his hand and his head in a reflexive sigh.

"I might be able to tell you more," Kit whispered.

Both Lion-O and I looked at the young Felis questioningly.

"It is something I've been noticing just recently. After Kat and I finish our sparring, I can get a faint impression of each move made through the whole entire match. At first, I thought it was because I had been there or maybe because we were twins, but it's not. I've been going to the sparring mat in the evenings after you all have had a practice round and seeing if I could pick up on anything."

"And?" Lion-O prompted.

"I can. I've even been testing myself by recording my impressions and then going through the security tapes to see how accurate I am."

"How accurate are you?" I asked, wondering why this was the first time I had heard about any of this.

"Eight-five to ninety percent," she shrugged.

"What about Kat? Does he have this new ability as well?"

"I don't know," Kit shook her head. "I haven't discussed it with him. I haven't discussed it with anyone. I was going to ask Cheetara, but…" Kit's eyes clouded over, and she bit her lower lip.

I looked back at the area that held the blood and then to the remains that had once formed a Nose Diver. Kit might be the only one who could give us an idea of what happened, give us a lead on where to go from here.

"Okay," I breathed.

WilyKit walked over to the blood and took a deep breath, holding the air inside her body. Slowly, her arms rose to shoulder height, her palms turning toward the sun. Suddenly, she was in motion, and I felt as though I was watching a slow-motion movie of a single player in a two-person act.

As I watched Kit, I wondered, when had she changed? Why hadn't I noticed? She wasn't a kitten anymore. She had grown; she was on the cusp of womanhood. Her hair was longer than I remembered. It no longer splayed into what had looked like a natural ponytail; it now hung low enough to graze her shoulders. At that moment, she looked so much like her mother I almost believed that it was Katika standing before me.

Until this moment, I hadn't even observed the alterations WilyKit had made to her uniform. They were subtle, and yet different enough that I should have noticed. The left armband no longer was short sleeved; it now traveled the length of her arm, ending at her wrist. The right arm remained bare; the armband decoration still in place. The bodice was more form fitting, or she simply had grown to fill it out, and the shorts were no longer shorts at all. They had lengthened and become form fitting, ending slightly above her knees. A thin, gauzy skirt, reminiscent of her original outfit, floated over the longer shorts, completing the entire ensemble.

I tried the excuse that I hadn't really noticed the changes because she had kept the same color scheme, same pattern of her previous uniform, but even I knew that was a lame defense. I had simply not paid enough attention, had allowed myself to get wrapped up in other things that never should have taken precedence over my family. I hadn't seen Cheetara slowly crumble into self-destructive mode; I hadn't seen the development of Kit's new ability; what else hadn't I seen?

WilyKit's scream rocketed me back to the present. My muscles moved of their own accord, catching the teenager as she crumbled into a ball from a mid-air jump. Lion-O was at my side in an instant as I lowered her to the ground. "Kit?" I called, gently trying to coax her to open her eyes.

Slowly, WilyKit's eyes fluttered opened, but I did not see the usual sorrel-color staring back at me. Instead, a thin, white membrane shrouded her eyes.

"Kit?" I called again, a bolt of anxiety running up my spine.

She blinked and then blinked again. On her third try, the nictitating membrane covering her eyes slid back to its normal position. She gulped suddenly and pushed out of my arms. She managed two steps and then crumbled to her knees vomiting.

I walked over and knelt next to the retching Felis. My hand traveled to her back and gently rubbed a circle of comfort until the sickness passed. I felt her take a halting breath and saw her scrub her hands over her face. Saying nothing, I offered my support and helped her stand. She leaned weakly on me as we both walked to where Lion-O waited.

"Are you all right?" the lion asked, worry thickening his voice.

Kit nodded and rubbed a hand across her temple; her other hand stayed wrapped securely around my waist, using me as a bulwark to keep her upright. "Yeah," she answered, shakily, "and, I know what happened."

* * *

--Translation--

**Jabari** – Acinonyx curse. Swahili origin meaning: god, supreme ruler

**mavi** – Thunderian curse (vulgar). Swahili origin meaning: damn, shit


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Where There Is Lightning, There Is Thunder****:**

* * *

_Thunder is the pressure wave of the lightning event. Thunder can be audible or inaudible. When there is lightning, there is thunder, and when there is thunder, there is lightning. From: Kithil, Richard. "The Thunder Mechanism." National Lightning Safety Institute Section October 2008. /nlsiinfo/thunder.html._

* * *

"Monkian, come in," I hollered over the comm, trying to be heard over the rushing of air and the sounds of battle echoing all around me. I was met by the not-so reassuring garble of static. "Come in, you over-muscled buffoon!"

This time the speakers crackled to life, but what I heard was not what I had requested. "Retreat!" came the mostly distorted command, followed by the distinct hooting of the simian I had been attempting to radio.

"What? No!" I clicked the communication controls frantically. "Belay that order!" I demanded, but my voice was unheard, and the troops of mutants that had participated in our early morning raid began to disengage from the ThunderCats and scatter across the Plains of Fertility.

"Worthlessss piece of junk," I growled, slamming my webbed hand into the console. That blasted she-cat must have damaged it when she had come at me the second time. I spun the NoseDiver around just shy of entering the Forrest of Silence and surveyed the strategic retreat.

"Ssstrategic, my tail," I hissed, watching the less than well-organized chaos of simians, reptilians, and canines darting in multiple directions. Given the pandemonium, it would take some hours if not days to regroup back at Castle Plundarr.

I flicked the communication switch again. "Vultureman!"

I was met by the stony silence of a dead radio. I shook my head in disgust. The birdbrain was supposed to have provided air support as soon as we had breached the walls, but he had never shown. _And, somehow, Monkian had taken command!_

It wasn't my fault that I couldn't lead the charge. I had started strong, but Cheetara had come out of nowhere. I hadn't even had a chance to aim at the very open Lord of the ThunderCats. The spotted feline had been on me in less than a moment's notice, landing on the NoseDiver and sending it way off course. I was lucky that I had recovered at all especially after I had sideswiped the corner of their ridiculously oversized Cat's Lair.

They were six Thunderians, for lunar-sake, and a fuzzy, half-pint annoyance if you wanted to get technical. What did they need with that much room? The addition of three more adults and another fury critter still didn't explain the stronghold. Not like the newest members of their ranks were even going to be staying there anyway. While getting provisions, mutant-style, of course, Monkian mentioned he had overheard the Berbils talking about another ThunderCat building being constructed on the far side of the Fire Rock Mountains.

"Just what we need," I spat, "another monument to the great and powerful, Thunderians."

Perhaps, the inhabitants of Third Earth would realize that these supposedly, peaceful and just beings were slowly taking over their planet. I doubted it. At least, we mutants had always been up front with our intentions.

The NoseDiver sputtered pathetically underneath me as I turned toward the Bridge of Slime, the most direct route back to Castle Plundarr. "Come on you piece of cobbled ssspace junk," I sneered in a feeble attempt to coax the hulk of metal to go faster.

I skimmed over the ground and contemplated my next move. If we were going to carve a niche on this wretched planet, we would have to regroup quickly and add to the damage we had started this morning. Perhaps we should go in shifts rather than all of us at once. Yes, we could wear them down in staged attacks, pummel them over and over again. That might work.

I felt a sinister grin pull at the corners of my mouth as I envisioned the attack strategy. Simians, first, since Monkian had made the grand decision to pull out when we were just starting to show some forward progress; then the jackalmen would be the next wave. Finally, the reptilians would mount the third strike with air support covered by Vultureman. Toward the end of the reptile attack, the rest of the mutants could then join in, and we would overrun the cats.

The NoseDiver shimmied underneath me, and I felt a sudden loss of balance as the vehicle swayed dangerously into a hard right bank. I twisted the right handlebar to accelerate and attempted to adjust lift with the left controls to reestablish equilibrium, but neither tactic stopped a sudden and complete downward plunge. All my maneuvering managed was a semi-controlled, sliding crash into the ground just shy of the main buildings still somewhat standing in the Temple Ruins.

"Uthuvi," I spat, wiping the windshield and limestone fragments from my face. An unhealthy cloud of smoke sputtered weakly from the exhaust pipes before the NoseDiver's engine died.

I slid off the seat and walked to the front. Other than missing half of a windshield and a few additional dents on the vehicle frame, I could see no obvious damage to the mechanical components, nothing to indicate why I was on the ground rather than hovering several meters above it.

I mounted the NoseDiver again and cranked the engine. It refused to turn over. Cursing under my breath, I again got off the vehicle and looked at it. "Fantassstic," I snarled, contemptuously, "no radio, and now, no engine!"

To get back to Castle Plundarr, I was going to have to walk. But, what was I going to do with the NoseDiver? I couldn't just leave it out in the open. Putting my double-edged battle-axe into the release loop of my belt, I left the vehicle in the middle of the ruins and went in search of someplace to stash it until it could be picked up later.

Slowly, I climbed up the dilapidated stairs of one of the buildings until I had full view to the north. A bank of black clouds seemed to hang in the middle of the horizon, but I knew it had nothing to do with the weather. It was the Black Pyramid, but the ever-present lightning that seemed to encompass the four onyx obelisks surrounding the ominous structure had disappeared, faded to nothing, just like the occupant.

"Miserable, bag of bonesss," I muttered, as I thought back to MummRa's last stand. He had sought to obtain the greatest power, the Star of Thundera, and it had consumed him. While I was not sad to see the mummy go, it did cause problems, problems that the demon priest had created long ago when we had first encountered him.

If Mumm-Ra had just stayed out of everything, we would have been long gone by now. He could have had the last of the Thunderians, and we would have had the Eye of Thundera. But, the mummy wanted the Eye for himself, not like he could have used it. We couldn't, but it would have at least given us the satisfaction that the Thunderians no longer had it either. An eye for an eye, sword for a sword, would have been a fair price.

Now, we were alone. There were no allies that could aid us in our quest, and even if we did obtain the Eye, we could not return it to Plundarr. Mumm-Ra had taken our ship, buried it within the Desert of Sinking Sands. The few pieces we had managed to salvage after I had tricked the mummy into temporarily restoring the ship were not enough for us to fashion transport off this world or assemble even a rudimentary relay transmission back to our home world.

I felt a stiff breeze, incongruous within the suffocating ruins, blow against my back, and I turned to look down the stairs back to where the crippled NoseDiver had crashed. To my surprise, I found the she-cat, Cheetara standing at the base of the stairs staring straight back at me.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." I snorted derisively at my own witticism and scanned the periphery behind her. This was a change of tactics for the Thunderians. Usually, they didn't pursue unless something had been taken from them, and to my knowledge, we had been less than successful in our raid this morning.

The cheetah blinked slowly at my remark, the only indication that she had even heard me. She planted her feet into a defensive stance and removed her bo staff from the arm cuff where she usually stored the weapon. With a flick of her fingers, the staff elongated to body length, and the feline twirled it in the air in front of her, deftly changing hands while she waited.

"Come to play?" I asked, still scanning the ruins behind and around her. _Surely, the ThunderCat hadn't come alone._

"I've come to finish this," Cheetara replied.

I laughed out loud. Her words had been completely unexpected.

She, however, had not found them so amusing. In a blink of an eye, the whirling staff stopped and the end crackled with an energy field. The eyes of the feline shifted to slits; an unusual smile settled on her lips. The staff end fired its electric pulse directly at my head.

I am not the most agile of the mutants, and I had definitely not expected an outright, unprovoked attack, especially from a ThunderCat. When the spotted feline fired, I did the most basic thing of which I could think, I dove for cover. Unfortunately, for me, the dive encompassed several crumbling stone stairs.

Stunned, I lay on my back staring down the long pole still electrified and still very much in Cheetara's controlled grasp. Seemingly in slow motion, I watched as the feline pulled her arms high above her head and then downward, a descent directed at my brow. My brain segued briefly to the fact that in all my years, I had never seen a cheetah move in slow motion. The end of the staff grew bigger as I watched it plow unerringly toward its mark. The charged end seemed to burn into my retinas.

I don't know when I closed my eyes waiting for the impact. I know that I probably flinched slightly as my vision flashed on a million images in some crazy juxtaposition of my life's events from when I was a juvenile up until this moment.

A loud pop near my right ear deafened all sound from that direction. I waited for the searing pain and blackness that never came. Chancing a glance to my right, my peripheral vision registered the bo staff a few scant centimeters from my flesh, the charged end grounding itself harmlessly against the non-conducting limestone pavers on which I lay.

Perhaps, my slight movement had saved me from the lethal end, or perhaps, the cheetah had had second thoughts. Whatever the case, I knew enough to use this momentary respite to my advantage. I flicked my tail out and caught the cheetah in the ankles, sending her and her staff reeling backwards.

True to her heritage, the feline landed gracefully on her feet after completing a backward flip, but that moment also gave my own feet purchase, as I took the opportunity to use my arms and legs to launch myself into my own flip off of the ground. My tail aided my center of gravity, stabilizing me so that the ThunderCat and I ended upright, facing each other.

"Kitty doesss want to play," I sneered, arming myself by pulling the dual-bladed Sagaris from its position on my belt. "She'sss changed the ruless though." I could hear the sibilant grow more pronounced in my speech, a sure indication that the feline had struck a nerve.

The cheetah stood before me. Her eyes glittered some emotion that was unreadable. Fluidly, she spun her staff until it came to rest in a defensive stance: tip barely grazing the ground in front of her feet, midpoint braced against her forearm. She said nothing; she just stood before me, again waiting.

My eyes traveled over her well-formed physique. I flicked my tongue to moisten my lips, tasting the air in anticipation. It had been quite a while since my last pet.

As my eyes traveled to her breasts, I noticed that the ThunderCat symbol she usually wore was no longer attached. "Ssso," I hissed softly, "you finally show your true nature. I didn't think that a cheetah could change its ssspotsss for long."

The feline's eyes narrowed at my words and probably at my lustful gaze as well. "I told you that I was here to finish this," she growled, her staff almost twitching with the raw emotions pouring from her.

"Then why haven't you?" I baited. "You had your chance, and you let me go.

"I won't make that mistake again." Her vow led her to offensive action. She came at me. A blur of light and a golden-orange color were the only indication of her presence, her location.

It was only through the years of honing my battle skills that I was able to fend off her first strike. I swung my blade in the direction that the cheetah was attacking. I caught her staff between the haft and blade of my axe.

The air around us seemed to echo with the sound of our weapons clashing together. We were so close I could see my reflection in her amber eyes. "You may be ssstrong, little one, but I am ssstronger!" I roared and flung her back and into the ground at my feet.

I swung my blade, missing her by inches as she dodged in a sideways handspring. She came up armed and targeted my weapon. Her staff emitted another powerful burst of fire from its tip, slamming into the cheek of the axe. Blue-white light erupted from the blade, and I dropped the hurlbat from my scorched fingers.

"You'll pay for that," I promised and spread my hands at my sides ready to engage her hand-to-hand if need be.

A mirthless smile split across her face, making her look wicked and even more appealing than ever. She crouched low into a stalking position, feinting once to my right and twice to my left, before committing to an actual jab directly at me.

I surprised her and myself as I twisted away from direct contact of her weapon's thrust. The staff crackled noisily as it grazed the side of my torso, singing my scales. Biting back the pain, I rolled across the pole and grabbed the same end that she held.

A tug of war ensued. Cheetara collapsed the staff to its smaller size in an attempt to throw me from my position, but I had had enough of the electrical weapon and held my ground. I also had the advantage now. In this close proximity, my sheer weight was beginning to tax the feline.

In a last ditch effort, the she-cat flicked a hidden switch on the shaft of the bo. I heard a high-pitched whine begin to scream within the staff as the power core began to overheat.

"No, you don't," I snarled and pulled the staff bodily from her grip.

I had miscalculated the amount of effort I needed to use to wrest control of the weapon, and I had not anticipated that she would easily let go. Both the bo and I went reeling sideways. I attempted to use the small stick as a stopping mechanism but ended up impaling the fuel tank of the NoseDiver instead.

* * *

I stared at the mutant lying unmoving on the ground several meters away from me. When I had let go of the staff, I had made a hasty retreat from the weapon. I didn't want to be in the vicinity of the explosion when it occurred.

Needless to say, I was more than surprised at the odd turn of events. S-Slithe had somehow managed to deplete the excess power in the weapon when he had inadvertently discharged it into his own craft's fuel supply. The explosion was just as spectacular as an overload would have been but unexpected nonetheless.

I didn't dare approach the smoking, hot rubble of what had once been the NoseDiver to investigate whether or not my staff had survived. I did, however, decide that S-Slithe was worth checking.

I saw no movement from the mutant as I cautiously advanced. _Was he dead?_ With that possibility, I had expected to feel something: relief, guilt, remorse, something, anything, but I did not. I was void.

I slowly slid to my knees in order to flip the reptilian onto his back. As I lifted him, I heard a gurgling noise and saw the green blood slowly oozing from a deep cut, slicing across his side down into his abdomen. While the resulting explosion of the mutant's vehicle had thrown him from the origin of the blast and most likely saved him from instant death, he had been less fortunate on the landing. His battle-axe had somehow come between him and the earth. The dual blade had sunk not only into the craggy ground but also into S-Slithe's thick skin.

I wasn't sure what to do. I felt frozen. For a moment, I considered doing nothing_. It wasn't the same thing as killing him,_ I rationalized. I was simply letting nature take its course, a course that I felt justified in allowing to happen.

S-Slithe groaned softly. I could hear the wet sucking of his breath, see a dribble of blood slide from the corner of his mouth. It wouldn't be long now, I thought and stood to leave. I had told him that I was going to finish this. I guess, that I had.

I had managed a step, maybe two, before I looked back to the reptile. _Mavi, I can't._ As much as I desired to be rid of the mutants, the horrible atrocities they had wrought, I couldn't just walk away and do nothing. At that moment, I hated S-Slithe even more because those feelings and an oath I had tried to deny forced me into helping him.

I ripped the long armband from my uniform and wrapped it around the reptile's large girth. He hissed up at me as I secured the cloth, binding it as tightly as I could to the gash to stem the flow of blood. I derived a very small sense of satisfaction at his grimace of pain.

I knew practically nothing about reptilian physiology. He was a cold-blooded murderer, but was he truly cold blooded? If he were, he certainly wasn't going to do well here in the heavy shadows of the ruins. I would need to get him into the sun or at least to the sun-warmed stones.

Bracing myself, I slid my arms around his bulk and lifted with all of my strength. I managed to drag him half way to my destination before I fell from fatigue. His heavy weight shifted so that he pinned me half-underneath him.

"Kasssi, how I missssed you, ukunto kwami," S-Slithe murmured in my ear.

My skin crawled as the mutant slid a webbed hand across my cheek and planted it behind my head, his short claws tangling through my hair. I could feel his hot breath on my face; the fetid smell of decaying vegetation and blood cloying my sense of smell. I didn't have time to react as S-Slithe clamped his mouth across my own. His tongue flicked across my clenched lips trying to seek entry.

Fury sprang from my body. My hands grasped at the solid forearms connected to the hands that were pinning me to the ground. I tore at the sinewy flesh with my claws, pushing the lizard away from me.

He screamed at me angrily, an obscenity that I didn't comprehend. His fist slammed against my cheek painfully. I didn't care though. The result of his punch and my clawing gave me my desperately sought space.

I scrambled away from the mutant, scraping my hands across my face and spitting his blood from my lips, my mouth. My stomach roiled. I was barely able to keep myself from vomiting. I moved to my unsteady feet and stumbled several steps backwards away from the deluded mutant.

I had no idea how S-Slithe managed to get to his feet much less stay on them. He lurched drunkenly at me, his eyes glazed, the third eyelid at half-mast. "Kasssi," he muttered again, the sound of the word a mixture of desperate plea and barely controlled rage.

Hatred seeped back into my consciousness. Even without the emblem, I had acted as a ThunderCat, and what had that gotten me? This monster standing before me had murdered my mate, committed genocide against my clan, set in motion the destruction of my children, doomed me and the remaining Thunderians to this inhospitable planet, and now he had tried to violate what was left of me! I would be a victim no more!

My staggering had somehow brought me back to where I had originally found S-Slithe lying in a pool of his own blood, blood that now dripped from my fingertips, drenched the remaining gauze on my healing hand, and still smeared its foulness across my face. My foot scraped against a heavy object almost tripping me as I kept my sight directed at the mutant rather than on my path. I looked down to find the bloodied, double-bladed Sagaris.

Blindly, I reached for the weapon barely feeling its heft as S-Slithe plowed into me. His body covered mine completely, crushing me into the packed earth. The battle-axe still remained in my grip, but my arms were pinned above my head; I had no leverage to bring it crashing down on the mutant.

He clamped one of his large webbed hands over both of my wrists making sure to keep the weapon immobilized above me. I could feel the fabric of my uniform grow sticky and wet as his blood seeped into it. Even with so much of his life essence draining away, he still had incredible strength. As I struggled to breathe under his weight, I felt his other hand fondled the side of my ribcage up toward my breast.

Fury ignited, and I bucked underneath him, my legs bending and straining to throw the mutant off of me. He held me fast in his grip. As he brought his face down to attempt another plunder of my mouth, I leaned forward to meet him halfway and sank my sharp fangs into his lower lip as hard as I could. The warm saltiness of fresh blood flooded into my mouth, making me gag.

S-Slithe's roar of outrage seemed to echo over the crumbling buildings. He reared back in pain, and I was able to squirm free, rolling to my stomach and scrambling to all fours. A grip wrapped itself around one of my ankles. Desperation added fuel to my fury, and I kicked out with my other leg. It landed solidly against the reptilian's groin. The grasp around my other leg eased, and I clambered to my feet.

My chest heaved as I gulped air into my starved lungs. My hands shook violently, the axe still clutched in my fingers. I watched the reptile stumble to his feet. His skin was covered in a slick sheen of what looked like sweat. His third eyelid now was almost completely covering his yellow eyes, making him look like an undead monster made up in scary folktales. He lumbered toward me, his tail holding most of his balance, keeping him upright.

"No more!" I screamed, not even recognizing the voice as my own. I spun around dragging the battle-axe with me, gaining precious momentum. As I twisted myself to try and bury the blade into my attacker, I heard the distinct popping report of weapon's fire, and suddenly my left temple burned with a white-hot heat. Instantly, my strength faded to nothing. The Sagaris fell from my nerveless fingers to the ground, and my body followed suit, slumping to the cool earth.

A haze filled my brain, making even the most basic coherent thought difficult. I blinked my eyes trying to focus on a blurry movement. I made out the form of feet, yellow tipped talons where toenails would be. My vision tunneled, I could no longer find the energy to even keep my eyes open.

Clinging to consciousness, I could make out the acidic taste, like burning metal, in my mouth. I recognize it as Thundrainium.

"Caw, you call yourself the leader of the mutants," a shrill voice penetrated my mind, giving clarity to the legs that I had seen.

_Vultureman,_ I tried to speak, but only succeeded in forming the word in my mind.

"Kassssi?" I heard the slurred speech of S-Slithe's reply.

"Not Kasi," squawked the avian.

I felt sharp claws dig into my shoulders as I was unceremoniously flipped to a supine position; my left cheek impacted against the ground and burned fiercely. I tried to growl in protest, but the sound didn't make it past my lips in more than a whimper.

"This is Cheetara," Vulturman continued. I felt the talons twist my head presumably inspecting the damage the blast had done. "She would have killed you if it weren't for me."

"Not Kasssi?" S-Slithe's voice repeated in a whisper.

I heard a click of something metallic, and my wrists suddenly burned with the hot touch of radiation. A bitter tang flared in the roof of my mouth. With my skin now in direct and continuous contact with the Thundrainium, my little remaining strength dissipated, and I fell into a pit of soundless blackness.

(TBC)

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

1) Translations provided by the Online Swahili – English Dictionary: /swahili/ and Zulu – English / Any mistakes on appropriate grammar and translation are those of the author. The author does not speak Swahili, or Zulu but has attempted to emulate the appropriate grammar and translations using a variety of sources on the net. The vulgarities were found through a search engine on cursing in Swahili and cursing in Zulu.

**uthuvi** - Zulu origin - shit

**mavi** – Swahili origin - damn, shit

**ukunto kwami** – Zulu origin - my pet

**Kasi** – Swahili origin - speed, haste

2) Third Earth geography based on map found in an 80's ThunderCats magazine and reproduced on the web at thundercats./artwork/map.jpg

3) **Sagaris** was the Greek name for a weapon used by Scythian tribes by the Persians, Mossynoeci, and others, and according to Aristarchus of Samothrace by the Amazons. The weapon was probably a kind of battle-axe, described as single-edged by some authors, and as double-edged by others. (from en./wiki/Sagaris).


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

**Changing Winds**

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**

_Wind shear is defined as the amount of change in the wind's direction or speed with increasing altitude. When the wind shear is weak, the storms that are part of the cyclone grow vertically, and the latent heat from condensation is released into the air directly above the storm, aiding in development. When there is stronger wind shear, this means that the storms become more slanted and the latent heat release is dispersed over a much larger area. (from: WW 2010. University of Illinois. Hurricanes._

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"Caw, why isn't this thing working?" I called out in frustration and struck the side of the inoperable Flying Machine's chassis with my closed fist.

I had left Castle Plundarr at the exact moment that SSlithe had designated. I had been making good time when all of the sudden the engines had inexplicably stopped working. They had just shut off. I had managed a gliding landing and had ended up in a small clearing just west of the Temple Ruins, but so far I could find no mechanical reason as to why the vehicle was still not in the air.

I would have to try the radio again. S-Slithe was not going to be happy about my delay, but at the rate I was going, I would be a no show.

"This is Vultureman; come in S-Slithe," I reported and released the trigger on the two-way communication device. A static filled hiss was my only response.

"I don't get it," I muttered under my breath. The transmission relay had been broadcasting clearly when I left this morning. S-Slithe and I had been in continuous contact from the start of the attack. Everything had been in perfect working order until now, well, until my forced landing that is.

I tried the radio again and received only dead air this time, not even a garble of static. I was stranded, but I was not going to sit here and do nothing. I was one of the brightest engineers and inventors on Plundarr; I would not sit idly by and leave my masterpiece to rust in these trees. I would figure this out.

I'm not sure how long I bent over the engine compartment testing the connections to the fuel supply and the electrical components. I do know that it must have been for quite awhile since the sun that had been barely dawning had now moved to bathe the clearing in a reddish glow of full morning light, shortening the shadows cast over my still inoperable machine.

I stood to stretch out the muscles that were beginning to cramp in my back. As soon as I straightened fully upright, an explosion echoed through the secluded glade. The sheer noise of the blast seemed to have a concussive force behind it, and I fell to my knees, partly in defense and partly from surprise.

Immediately, I sprang to my feet and started running in the direction of the detonation, somewhere within the Temple Ruins. I had made it to the edge of the woods separating me from the ruins when my brain caught up with my body. I did an about face and returned to the Flying Machine. I wasn't going to investigate the abandoned buildings without reinforcements. My back up was in the form of a sleek, new blaster that I had recently crafted. Taking comfort in my fire-powered companion, I retraced my path back to the forest edge and carefully began to make my way into the Temple Ruins.

I followed the sounds of a struggle. I kept to the periphery using the trees and the structure remnants as cover. I had just made it to a small outcropping when I felt my mouth fall open in a wordless gape as I recognized one of the participants in the battle that my ears had been witnessing.

S-Slithe was grappling around with someone on the ground. I could just make out the glimmer of his weapon held in the hands of the figure pinned under the lizard's massive body, but the reptilian didn't seem to be concerned about the weapon at all, he was more interested in the prey beneath him.

In a flurry of movement, a struggle for dominance, S-Slithe suddenly reared back with a roar of something that sounded like pain and rage. I saw blood pour from a wound on his lower lip; additional blood had soaked through a makeshift bandage across his chest and abdomen. I could not tell what color the cloth had been as it now seemed to be drenched in the greenish wetness of what I knew to be reptilian blood.

I finally got a glimpse of the creature with which S-Slithe was engaged. To my surprise, I saw the female ThunderCat Cheetara. Her eyes were wild, and she was mostly covered in blood but not hers. She spit some of the brackish green liquid from her mouth, as it had been she who had caused the gash to appear on S-Slithe's face. She tried to scramble to her feet only to be trapped by S-Slithe grabbing hold of one of her legs. She kicked out frantically with the free leg, hitting the reptile fully in the groin. S-Slithe slumped over giving her a precious few seconds to slide from his grasp.

The cheetah remained in control of the Sagaris. I could make out green staining its deadly blade. I adjusted my weapon and trained my sights on the she-cat. Rather than admitting defeat, S-Slithe was suddenly on his feet, lunging at the armed ThunderCat.

"No more!" Cheetara screamed, and as she swiveled to plunge the battle-axe into the reptile again, I fired my blaster. I heard a cry of pain as a bolt lanced across her shoulder and temple, and the cheetah slumped to the ground along with the hurlbat.

I hurried to the spot where the feline had fallen and looked down at her. Even though my shot had only been a glancing blow, it appeared that enough of the thundranium had penetrated her skin to incapacitate her.

"Caw, you call yourself the leader of the mutants," I yelled contemptuously, as I looked at the reptile that had almost bought it by a female Thunderian.

"Kassssi?" S-Slithe replied and then slid to his knees next to the feline.

_What?_ I thought completely befuddled by S-Slithe's statement. _ Did he really believe the cheetah in front of him to be the Thunderian traitor, his one-time consort?_

"Not Kasi," I clarified and flipped the feline onto her back to see her wounds better. She hissed softly but that seemed to be all she was able to do. I would make certain that her docile state persisted.

"This is Cheetara," I continued and pulled a set of handcuffs from one of the pouches I had on my belt. They had been meant to subdue Lion-O, but they would work even better on the smaller she-cat. "She would have killed you if it weren't for me."

"Not Kasssi?" S-Slithe repeated drunkenly and started to sway forward

I quickly put the restraints on Cheetara's wrists and turned to grab the lizard as he began to fall to the ground as well. "Get a grip, S-Slithe," I demanded and pulled him to his feet. It took him a few moments to stabilize himself with his tail.

_Now, what?_ I surveyed scene in front of me: the female ThunderCat subdued and unconscious at my feet, thanks to the Thundranium laced shackles, and a less than lucid reptile barely upright himself. I certainly couldn't carry them both back to Castle Plundarr. It was quite a hike by itself. Carrying baggage, I wouldn't get more than a third of the way there, and given S-Slithe's state, I doubted that he would even make it that far. The Flying Machine would do us no good unless it somehow managed to fix itself while I was gone, and I knew better than that.

As I swiveled around to examine the ruins, find a place to rest, regroup, a sudden brilliance lit the area around us. It was so bright that all I could perceive was whiteness. The air around us crackled, and a furnace blast of heat took my strength causing me to fall to the ground limply. I barely had enough energy to raise my hand to shield my eyes against the glare.

Silhouetted in the intense luminance, the figure of a woman appeared. Squinting up at her, I made out a crown decorating her head; it was from this vestment that the light seemed to flow. Try as I might, I could not see her face, only the shadow of her form which was definitely feminine.

She stopped and bent down to S-Slithe, running her hands quickly over his inert body. Presumably not finding what she was looking for, the figure left him where he lay and moved to the Thunderian. As she bent down to touch the cheetah, she suddenly backed away in haste.

"It is forbidden!" a voice, both melodic and acidic, screamed in my head. That was the only way to describe it. I heard it, but it was all around me, inside me, and I had no idea to what the voice was referring.

The figure moved to stand in front of me. A set of fierce blue-green eyes seemed to burn from the shadowed face directly into my skull. I could not breathe, could not think, as my head seemed to split open, and all of my knowledge seemed to be forcibly taken from my brain. The sensation was too much to bear. As I slid into the blessed relief of unconsciousness, I had the distinct impression of the woman in front of me, and she looked like a lioness from Thundera.

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I stared at the view screen in front of me, waiting. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for; I just knew that something was happening, something that would be likely to change the events of our course in history on this small planet that we now called home. The long-range scanners pierced through several sectors a minute, yet I could find no sign of the mutants that had attacked our home or the three ThunderCats that had gone after them.

_Only a couple of hours,_ I reminded myself as I typed commands onto the keyboard still scanning for signs of something, anything. The limited amount of time that had passed since Cheetara had gone in search of vengeance and Lion-O and Panthro had taken off after her did little to assuage the band of worry slowly constricting around the center of my gut. Even the quiet Sword of Omens attached at my side did little to mollify the sense of danger and wrongness I felt radiating through my bond with my companions.

The grounds of the Lair came into sequential view at the upper right hand corner of the main screen while the computer multitasked scanning the further sectors of Third Earth on the three remaining panels in front of me. Bengali, Lynx-O, Pumyra, Kit, Kat, and the snarves had already made tremendous headway on clearing the damage and rubble from the memorial gardens. None of the partitions had been spared, but the Acinonyx section had been completely destroyed.

That faint foreboding sensation in the pit of my stomach spasmed as I thought about Cheetara. She had been on shaky ground ever since she had used her sixth sense to help find our Thunderian brethren. I hadn't realized how shaky or even why until everything had fallen apart after the anointment ritual for Bengali, Pumyra, and Lynx-O. The gardens were supposed to be a way for the cheetah to find some solace, a path toward healing, but the mutants had destroyed that in less than a few minutes, just as they had Cheetara's whole clan, whole life.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head in an attempt to shut out the despair that reared up with those thoughts. The mutants could not have picked a worse day, a worse way to hurt us, her. They had taken her last hope today, and that was something I wasn't sure could be restored even with the help of Lion-O and Panthro.

As my thoughts drifted to the Lord of the Thundercats, the Sword of Omens, his sword, anchored at my hip, suddenly felt heavier. I should never have taken the weapon. In fact, it hadn't been my idea at all. I was all set to follow Lion-O, stop Cheetara, but when Lion-O had stopped and called out Jaga's name, I found that I could see the phantom visage of the previous commander of the sword as well.

I had been so startled to actually see Jaga that I too stood still to hear his counsel. The last time I had physically seen him was during the ghostly battle against Grune over the very Lair I found myself currently watching. For me to be able to see him now meant that there must be more layers to this whole situation.

Jaga's words resonated with me, broke through the rash desires I had to go after Cheetara myself, maybe even aid her in her quest. But, there was more; when Jaga had vanished to leave Lion-O to make up his mind, he hadn't really left at all. He had ended up appearing next to me.

Jaga had known that Lion-O would not allow Cheetara's actions to go unanswered that the lion would give up his title rather than abandon her. Of course, if I had been given the choice, I would have done so as well. But the choice Jaga gave to Lion-O meant that I would have no choice at all, and given what I had witnessed this morning, I had taken my one and only option.

The cheetah and the lion had become so much closer these last few years and especially this last month. Their friendship seemed to be growing maybe even changing into something else, something more. While on monitor duty this morning, I had seen them in the memorial gardens. Their camaraderie seemed natural, almost second nature. It was the first time I had seen Cheetara smile, much less laugh, in weeks. I had quickly looked away and scheduled the monitors to scan elsewhere as I had not wanted to intrude. Of course, had I not given them privacy, I might have picked up on the mutants before they began their attack this morning.

My hand hit the console in frustration. I felt like such a pawn. I had wanted to go after Cheetara as much as Lion-O. She was, is, a dear friend. _Oh, who am I kidding,_ I thought bitterly. She could have been, we could have been, more than that, if I had been willing to act.

My feelings for the cheetah were complicated. Our age gap alone would cause people to talk. _What about the age difference between Lion-O and Cheetara? _My traitorous thoughts whispered back. _Stop it!_ I warned myself. My rational mind made the calculation anyway. _Ten years,_ it responded quickly, _only three years less than our age difference would be. _Although by all physical indications, she and Lion-O were only a year or so apart.

I shook my head even as I continued the internal argument with myself. There were other factors: Kijani, my own deceased mate, my mentorship of Cheetara as a ThunderCat…my curious feelings for Nayda. The last thought seemed to fly from the recesses of my mind and slip through just before I slammed a mental door on my wayward feelings. I refused to go down that path or to allow myself to analyze those thoughts, not now, not ever.

Lion-O's feelings for the cheetah were at issue, I reminded myself, not mine. The fact that Lion-O hadn't even questioned my agreement with Jaga's advice, asked how I had known what his mentor had said, spoke volumes as to how distracted he was over Cheetara's actions. Even without that evidence, there were the times I caught him protecting the cheetah a little too zealously, almost borderline over-protective. Then again, if I had allowed myself to worry over her, perhaps we would never have been in this predicament in the first place.

The door to the control room flew open, and an out of breath WilyKat entered the room. His entrance snatched my thoughts from the what-might-have-been and grounded them firmly in the here and now.

"Kat," I began to admonish his reckless entry but quickly stopped when I noticed his eyes. They were as wide as saucers.

"She's not here!" he yelled, his gaze scanning the room, looking for something, presumably a someone from his words.

"Who's not here?" I asked.

"WilyKit." The answer came from the doorway from an equally out of breath puma as she entered.

"She's not with you?" I asked. Even as the words came out of my mouth, I realized the answer. Skipping the wait for an obvious response, I continued, "When was the last time you saw her?"

"She was standing next to the destroyed Acinonyx sculpture after the mutant attack. I haven't seen her since Panthro showed up in the ThunderTank." WilyKat paced the room, his hands clenching and unclenching with worry.

"Pumyra?"

"That was the last time I saw her as well. She had looked extremely upset. I just thought that she had gone inside to settle down." The puma raised troubled henna-colored eyes to meet mine. "You don't think?" she trailed off.

WilyKat stopped pacing and looked directly at the both of us. "Think what? That she went off after Cheetara?"

I held his gaze, but Pumyra lowered her head and gave a slight nod.

"That would be crazy; that would be dangerous: that would be exactly something she would do," he muttered in quick succession. "Tygra, we have to call the tank, make sure she's all right."

I quickly flipped the toggle switch and adjusted the frequency to the ThunderTank. "Cat's Lair to ThunderTank, this is Tygra do you read?"

Only silence returned to us.

"That can't be good," Kat mumbled again and resumed his pacing.

His nervousness set me on edge, but I tried to push away my own foreboding. "Let's not jump to conclusions. They may not be at the vehicle. Perhaps, they have already found Cheetara."

Pumyra moved closer to the console and glanced at the controls. "Can you get a fix on their location?"

I pushed a few buttons, and the main screen in front of us switched to a grid of the explored areas of Third Earth. A reassuring blue blip blinked on the network, and I homed in on the location. "The tank is at the Bridge of Slime. If Cheetara crossed the River of Despair, they would have to go on foot from there. The tank's treads are too massive to cross the formation."

"Can you call Panthro on the comm?" Kat asked, his eyes glued to the monitor as if he might be able to see the area in detail.

I again adjusted the frequency and tried again. "Cat's Lair to Panthro, do you read?"

This time an odd static crackled over the speakers. I twisted the radio controls to try and clear the reception and again gave the call out. My results were the same; an interference of static was our only response.

"What about the locator beacons on their weapons?" Pumyra suggested and grabbed Kat's shoulder as he passed her a third time. "Cut it out, Kat; you're making me nervous."

"Sorry," Kat replied and stopped his pacing, but the anxiety radiating from him only seemed to magnify.

In a few more seconds, I saw the locator signatures from four ThunderCats register on the screen. While I heard both Pumyra's and WilyKat's exhales of relief, I did not share in their sentiment.

"Uccāra," I hissed, as I looked at the signals clearly registering from within the Temple Ruins.

Pumyra's head shot up quickly, and she threw me a look. For a moment I was surprised that she would even recognize my curse, but then again, she probably had learned several Tigris words from Bengali.

I glanced at Kat and then shook my head slightly to indicate that what I knew I would rather not say in front of the adolescent.

Pumyra nodded and then gently touched Kat's shoulder. "See, she did stow away on the tank."

"Yeah," Kat grinned, but even I could see the strain still lingering on his face.

"Is there something else, Kat?" I asked.

"It's probably nothing," the young wildcat hedged.

"But," Pumyra prompted.

"I keep getting the feeling that something is wrong. Like I said, it's probably nothing, right?" he suggested hopefully.

I didn't respond immediately. I knew that the twins shared a special connection sometimes bordering on telepathy. The fact that Kat sensed something amiss with his sister coupled with my own sense of wrongness and added to the warning that Jaga had given me suddenly became too much of an unknown. Without explanation, I pulled the Sword of Omens from the scabbard on my thigh and put the Eye to my temple. "Sword of Omens, give me sight beyond sight," I commanded.

The crossbars curled, and a haze of coalescing blue-green light flooded my mind. I felt myself go rigid with the impressions filling my entire consciousness. I had never commanded the sword, never attempted a second sight.

The images of buildings in ruins came sharply into focus. I saw a flash of lightning so bright it blinded me. A strident report of thunder, both musical and painful, rang in my ears. Slowly, the cloud of light faded, and I felt something, a hand maybe, carefully brushing across my forehead.

"Tygra," a voice called seemingly from far away. "Tygra." This time the voice sounded closer and clearer. It wasn't until I heard my name for the third time that I realized my eyes were closed. Blinking rapidly, the concerned face of Pumyra swam into focus with an equally worried WilyKat looking on from behind her shoulder.

"Thank Jaga," Pumyra breathed and settled back to sit on her knees. "What happened?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," I replied and tried to sit up until a blinding pain sliced through my skull.

"Easy," the puma cautioned.

"Yeah," I grunted and swallowed a bout of nausea as it pressed against the back of my throat.

"What did you see?" WilyKat asked. "Did the sword tell you anything?"

With Pumyra's support, I pulled myself into a sitting position and leaned against the back of one of computers. "I saw the ruins. Then there was a flash of lightning and a boom of thunder and then nothing."

"That's it?" Kat prompted.

"Yes. What happened here?"

"After you gave the command to the sword, you went deathly still. Then, you turned as white as Bengali and crashed to the floor," Pumyra explained. "Kat and I barely caught you before you hit your head on the chair."

"The sword?"

"Here." Kat handed me the blade, and I looked over the weapon. It did not look any worse for wear. "What do we do now?"

I looked at Pumyra and then at Kat. Before I could answer, I heard the control room door slide open again, and Bengali entered.

"There you all are. Lynx-O and I were beginning to think we'd been ditched in the…What happened?" Apparently halfway through his remarks, the white tiger suddenly realized that my position on the floor was less than normal.

"The sword and I had a minor incident," I answered and accepted his assistance in moving to a chair.

"What kind of incident?" he asked, his baritone voice dropping into a bass range with his concern.

"Have Lynx-O and the snarves meet us in the council room in five minutes, and I'll explain everything."

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"I wish you'd stop looking at me that way," I growled, as the two males exchanged another look above my head.

"What are we supposed to do, Kit?" asked Lion-O.

"I don't know," I answered, some of the wind coming out of my sails. "I never had a reaction like this before. Usually, I just go through the motions, and I'm done."

"You've also never used your new found ability in a true battle situation," Panthro noted. "When we spar, we don't try to kill each other; from what you described, the battle between S-Slithe and Cheetara was much more intense."

That was an understatement. I shuddered as I remembered the blows. Cheetara had been fighting for her life and at times so had S-Slithe. I had never felt such powerful emotions attached to the kinetics of motion. The whole ordeal left me feeling dirty and confused.

I was equally concerned about my third eyelid. It was refusing to slide fully back into place. The result left me so unbalanced that Panthro had to carry me as we walked further into the ruins. Both he and Lion-O wanted to get me back to Cat's Lair, but since our communicators seemed to be malfunctioning, it didn't seem likely that help would be immediately forthcoming, and a jaunt back to the ThunderTank seemed a bit more difficult since there was no way I could retain my footing on the slippery bridge. So here we were traveling deeper into the ruins in search of Cheetara.

"Are you sure that it was Vultureman that you saw?" Lion-O asked again as he examined to the ground where Cheetara had battled S-Slithe, where I had seen her fall, fallen myself.

I watched his face carefully before I answered. When I had told him of everything that I had seen, felt, he had walked away from both Panthro and myself. I had wanted to follow, but Panthro had refused. He had told me to give the lion some space. When Lion-O had returned, his face had become a stony mask, refusing any and all emotion.

"I can't be one hundred percent sure," I finally responded verbally, "but yes, I think, it was Vultureman. Somebody shot Cheetara, and it certainly wasn't S-Slithe."

There it was, a flash of something in the young lord's eyes. His fists clenched tightly, and I was sure should the avian show his ugly mug, the lion would be wiping those knuckles across it numerous times. I held my tongue as Lion-O struggled to regain his earlier composure.

I'm sure that he would prefer that I was wrong in my findings; I certainly would, but I knew in my heart that in regard to the battle I was correct. I had felt the blast, the radiation's toxicity. It was the reason I had collapsed, the reason I had thrown up, and probably the reason my third eyelid was refusing to cooperate. Even from a psychic distance, I had felt the poison. I shivered again and tried unsuccessfully to not think about how horrible it must have been to endure it firsthand.

"Kit?" Panthro asked, worry carrying in his voice.

"I'm all right," I lied and shook myself from my reverie of the battle to which I had recently become a participant.

"Vultureman came from that direction over there." I pointed to a small outcropping in clear view of the scuffle marks where we currently stood.

Panthro carried me over to the crumbling building, and I looked further into the distance. If I concentrated, I could see a hazy glow of footprints entering the Temple Ruins from the forest on the western side.

"Did they double back this way?" the panther asked following my gaze.

"No," I answered, "There is only one signature, and it is entering the ruins not leaving them."

"All right, so where did they go?" Lion-O prompted when we returned to where he was still standing.

"I don't know."

I saw a frown cross the lion's features, and the sudden feeling of helplessness I'd been having since I started this course of action flared to the forefront. Tears sprang into my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered, hearing the sob bubble up through my voice. "They just stop."

"It's all right, Kit; I know you're doing your best," Lion-O soothed, but for some reason, his words only made the tears fall faster.

A sudden feeling of fury filled my mind. The coldness in how it swept through me left me breathless. With a burst of adrenaline firing through my body, I pushed out of Panthro's arms and threw him bodily into Lion-O. The two tumbled into a heap on the ground.

I could still feel the wet track of tears on my face, but I had no idea why they had been there. I turned to the two males slowly disentangling from each other and the earth.

"I need the sword," I growled, the voice that came from my lips didn't sound anything like my own.

_Why did I need the sword? _I wondered. I tried to speak, but I could not move my lips. I tried to run, but my feet refused to cooperate. I stood there facing my friends and suddenly realized I was trapped within my own body.

"What are you talking about, Kit?" Lion-O asked, holding his hands in a placating gesture as he took a few steps toward me.

"Don't play dumb, young Lord of the ThunderCats. The sword now, or the panther stops breathing," the voice, my voice but not mine, ordered.

My stance shifted to the right, and my hand, of its own accord, drifted up into the air. My eyes turned to look at Panthro. Somehow I had lifted him from the ground and was dangling him like a fish caught on a hook, my fingers closing around his throat, his toes barely skimming the ground.

I looked through my eyes in disbelief. There was no possible way that I could be doing this. I certainly wasn't strong enough to pick Panthro from the ground, especially with one hand. Secondly, even if it were possible to hold onto the panther and keep my grip, I was too short to lift him so that he was no longer touching the earth. My gaze flickered briefly to my feet, and I realized that I was floating above the ground.

Desperately, I tried to command my hand to release its hold to no avail. I could feel Panthro's fingers tearing at my wrist as he began to truly struggle to catch his breath. I saw his claws start to rip into my flesh, felt the stinging pain and the wet ooze of blood as it seeped through the deep lacerations, but I was a spectator in my own body.

A solid-muscled body knocked into me, and Lion-O and I went flying. I hit the ground hard, felt the air forced out of my lungs, and saw stars as I tried to remain conscious.

"Panthro?" Lion-O called, not moving an inch from where he held my wrists against the earth, effectively pinning me. I didn't try to struggle; I just lay underneath him trying to catch my breath.

"I'm okay," Panthro answered, his voice sounded raspy, and he coughed raggedly.

"Kit?" Lion-O inquired, cautiously loosening his grip but not fully releasing it.

"I, I, I don't know," I stammered, half-relieved to have found my voice and lips cooperating and half-fearful of what that meant. I had no more time to wonder as a bright light flooded the expanse of where we were.

"I want the sword, lion," demanded a shadowy feminine form coalescing inside the intense light.

Lion-O shifted his weight so that he was almost completely covering me. From this vantage, I could see more of the figure. Aquamarine eyes seemed to glitter with a light of their own from a face that had the markings and definition of a female Leo from Thundera. She wore a crown on her head. It wasn't the traditional crown of royalty; it seemed to have a disk fashioned to the center, and from that disk, the luminescence, too intense to look at, formed and poured. The rest of her body was covered in a fine golden fabric.

"Who are you?" Lion-O growled. I could feel the tension coiling through his body as he pushed me further away from the entity towering over us.

"I am Chaos; I am Order," the female snarled back. "And, I won't be denied. Give me the sword!"

"I don't have it."

"Then you shall get it," the being vowed.

Suddenly the earth around us trembled, and a great howling wind swirled. An intense heat flowed over us and made me feel as if I were a flower wilting on the vine. Once again, I could not move. There was that same cold touch that had flowed through me when I had lost control of my body, but this time it took my consciousness with it.

TBC

* * *

Uccāra – Bengali origin – means excrement – Tigris translation to shit  
_(found at SAMSAD Bengali-English Dictionary on the web)  
_

_

* * *

A/N: Happy Halloween, all; I hope you enjoyed my gift of this chapter - yeah it turned out a bit of a surprise for me too - Lots of Laughs. Also, I wanted to send a quick shout out to my reviewers. Thanks so much, it means a lot and keeps me motivated to write more. Catch you on the next chapter, RL_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_**SuperCell**_

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_A supercell is a severe thunderstorm with a deep, continuously rotating updraft (a mesocyclone). Of the four classifications of thunderstorms, supercells are the largest and most severe. They usually produce copious amounts of hail, torrential rainfall, strong winds, and substantial downbursts. Supercells are one of the few types of clouds that typically spawn tornadoes within the mesocyclone._

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"Panthro?" I heard a voice call my name, but I couldn't seem to get my eyes to cooperate. The best I could do was to manage a groan.

"C'mon, Panthro, I don't know how much time we have." WilyKit's voice sounded frightened, and her fear was enough for me to pull myself into the present.

"Wha? Where are we?" I asked. My mouth was so dry I felt as though I had eaten a bin of Balkin weaving fleece.

"I don't know," Kit admitted, and I finally was able to focus on the adolescent.

"Easy, Kit," I cautioned, seeing her swoon slightly. "Sit down."

Once she settled next to me I looked at her hands. Those fragile fingers had been wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air supply. I had reacted in desperation and struck out. I could see dark tracks of clotted blood tracing down the length of both wrists. Guilt pressed into my gut.

WilyKit watched me watch her. She rubbed slightly at her wrists and looked up, the sadness unmistakable in her eyes. "Neither one of us had much control back there."

"No," I agreed, switching my gaze to look at her face. The third eyelid that had been so pronounced to cause her disability had almost retracted entirely into its proper place. I allowed myself a small measure of relief with that observation.

I shifted upright, and noticed that for whatever reason I no longer had my shoulder spikes. My nunchakus were also absent. Kit watched me cast about in search of the missing items before stopping me. "Don't bother. They're gone so are my pellets. Whoever, whatever, trapped us took everything. I don't even have my lariat."

"All right, so where are we?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. We seem to be in some kind of cell, made of light, but it is substantial."

I raised my own hand and tested the walls, if that is what you could call them. They were as smooth as glass, no indentations or marks to delineate partitions. They were also oddly cool to the touch. With the amount of energy they seemed to be giving off, I had expected them to be hot or at least warm, but they were more like ice than heat.

Kit suddenly stiffened beside me.

"Kit?"

Her features froze, and her skin seemed to go unnaturally pale.

"Kit!" I reached out to shake her and found myself suddenly flung to the far side of the wall from where I had originally been.

I shook my head hard to stop the ringing in my ears and looked back at where WilyKit still remained. She stood in the center of the room. An odd radiance of light seemed to surround her, and I knew at that moment she was no longer the young Felis I had watched grow from a cub to a young woman.

I held my hands up in front of me, palms facing outward, placatingly. "Who are you? What do you want with us?"

"I want nothing from you, panther," Kit spoke, but the intonation was wrong, older and contemptuous.

_All right, different tactic._ "Then what do you want of Kit?"

The being occupying Kit's body seemed to look at it as if for the first time. She flexed her hands in front of her, and a dark smile curved her lips. "She wasn't my first choice, but she will do nicely."

_Not her first choice? Then who?_ "You still didn't answer my question. Who are you? What do you want?"

The being spun at me. She raised a hand, and I felt my body being lifted from the floor pinned by an invisible force against the very wall I had been thrown into a few seconds ago. Immobile, I could only watch as Kit walked up to me - sauntered, actually.

There was a punctuated sway to her hips, and when she drew close enough to touch me, she trailed a lazy hand down my cheek and settled it onto my lips. She pressed into me. Her other hand stroked my bare chest settling inches from the ThunderCat insignia on my buckle.

"Don't," I whispered hoarsely. I tried with every fiber of my being to move, but the only muscles that complied were facial.

"What?" Kit mocked softly, scraping her claws against the grain of the fur of my chest and leaning in to purr softly into my ear. "Don't worry, panther, I know what I'm doing."

Pushing herself up onto her tiptoes, she leaned her whole body into mine, sliding seductively up until I could feel the heat of her breath flicker against my mouth. Very slowly, she dipped her head and brushed her lips against mine.

The wrongness of the situation sent blaring signals to take action, stop her, through my body, but I was unable to do anything but hang like some trophy on the wall. My eyes glared at the entity as she leaned back; her smile of triumph growing even wider on her face as she regarded me. A sultry pout settled on her lips, completely incongruous to the sweet child I knew Kit to be.

"Oh, I completely forgot," she murmured once again trailing a finger over my lips. "Panthers like it rough." Without any more warning, Kit sunk her teeth into my lower lip.

I could do nothing, not even growl in protest, as her sharp fangs broke the skin. I felt the rumble of laughter burble in her throat accompanying the acute sting of pressure as she bit down even harder. She gnawed lightly on my lower lip, licking the wound delicately, before she finally pulled away from me.

"Better." She grinned and smoothed her tongue against her lips relishing in my blood that was still tracking down her chin. "I know that you still want to play, but I can only be distracted for so long."

Leaving me suspended against the far wall, she turned and flicked her hand. A doorway, shadowed opening, appeared, and WilyKit stepped through. As the wall reestablished itself, the intangible hands holding me faded, and I slumped to my feet and then to my knees. I slowly lowered my head to cradle it in my hands.

_This isn't happening,_ I denied, but I could still feel the burn of Kit's teeth on my lip, the wetness of blood still oozing from her bite.

* * *

I fiddled with the stylus on the table next to the data pad. I couldn't seem to shake the feeling that while we were all sitting around waiting for Tygra to join us something else was happening, something sinister and something that was directly impacting my sister. Slowly, I flicked the pen to roll from one hand to the other finding an odd sense of comfort in the monotony of motion. Halfway completing another pass, I had the oddest sensation run down, not down, more like through, my back. I felt as though freezing water had been poured into my spine.

I stiffened as the coldness spread through my extremities. The stylus flew from the table impacting on the ground with a sharp report. My eyes were blinded by a radiance of white. While the light appeared to be hot, my body had turned to ice, but I couldn't even shiver; I couldn't move at all.

_You must act quickly child of Thundera,_ a voice boomed in my ears.

Then, as quickly as everything happened, it just as rapidly faded away, and I became aware of Pumyra bending over me.

"WilyKat, can you hear me?" the healer asked, but her voice sounded far away.

I blinked my eyes; finally finding the ability to control my muscles again. Not trusting myself to speak, I simply nodded dumbly up at the puma.

"What happened?" she asked, her trained gaze skipping over me.

I shook my head. I had no idea what had happened. The last thing I remembered was sitting at the council table waiting for Tygra. Now, I lay on the ground.

"Kat?" a rough voice rasped behind me, and I had the sensation of being lifted from the floor and deposited back into my chair.

"I don't know," I admitted, silently cursing the quiver attaching itself to my voice. "I couldn't move, couldn't see. Then I heard a voice say something about Thundera, and the next thing I know you and Pumyra are looking down at me while I am on the floor."

I watched a silent look pass between the two adults present in the room but had no time to comment on it as the council chamber door opened and Lynx-O followed by Tygra entered the room. The elder lynx stopped abruptly as he took a step into the room. If not for Tygra's quick reflexes, the tiger would have plowed into him.

"Lynx-O," Tygra questioned. I could hear the alarm in his voice as he grabbed the lynx who was beginning to collapse to the floor.

"Not again," Bengali growled, lunging forward to help his cousin steady the elder ThunderCat.

"Lynx-O?" Pumyra called, rushing to her mentor's side.

"Do you feel it?" Lynx-O whispered hoarsely.

Pumyra grabbed the lynx's arm. "Feel what?"

"A presence. There is urgency; something we must do."

"That's what the voice said," I interrupted and found myself the center of the adults' attention.

"What voice?" Tygra questioned, helping the others to settle Lynx-O into the nearest chair.

I watched the lynx wave off the concerned ministrations of his long-term companions and turn toward me as well. "You felt it too?"

"I felt something," I admitted. "I can't tell you what it was. But, it did say something about acting quickly. It called, me child of Thundera. Whatever it is; it knows who we are; where we are from."

"But what is it?" Bengali asked.

We all shook our heads in wonder except for Tygra. "I think, I know," he began.

* * *

Searing pain radiated from my head through my shoulders and down the upper portion of my back. It came in waves, and I felt as though I had taken on Panthro's Thundertank in a hand-to-hand combat, and the tank had won.

Slowly, I fought to open my eyes, but I stayed as stationary as possible so that if I were under observation I would not give away my more alert state. I needed to determine where I was, what had happened, after the entity had overcome us. Cracking my eyes to mere slits, I found myself staring at a smooth surface that seemed to radiate light. It wasn't as blinding as before; in fact, it almost seemed soothing.

I was lying on my side, facing a wall of soft, white light. Very slowly, I moved my arm and reached out to touch the partition; it was solid. Groaning softly, I readjusted my position so that I was flat on my back in order to gauge the roof. Again, I looked through the fringe of my eyelashes to peer up at the ceiling. It too appeared to be made of light, but its opaqueness convinced me that it was likely as solid as the wall had been.

I allowed my head to roll to the other side and repeated my surveillance with the same results, wall of gentle light. Except on this side of the room, where I was presumably being held captive, I saw a shadow, a silhouette really. The form was also on its side facing away from me. I could make out the gentle slope of a waist curving up into a hip, highlighting the femininity of the figure.

I froze. At first, I thought that it was the creature that had attacked us until my eyes adjusted. A halo of color began to delineate itself from the backlit shadow: a bare shoulder highlighted in spots, a green smeared bodice that still had a hint of orange, torn leggings with additional spots showing through, and finally a scuffed orange boot.

"Cheetara," I whispered, and totally forgetting about stealth, I scrambled to my feet. I managed one step upright before I fell to my knees. A wave of dizziness descended upon me, and I barely caught myself as I fell onto my hands. An acrid taste of metal flooded my mouth, and I lowered myself to the ground as the sudden burst of adrenaline fled from my muscles.

"Thundranium," I muttered, allowing myself a brief respite on the smooth, cool floor. I stared at the spot where Cheetara lay. She hadn't moved when I had called her name; in fact, there had been no motion at all from the cheetah since I had become aware of her presence. Fear fueled my waning strength, and I hauled myself to my hands and knees, crawling, practically dragging myself, to where she was. My energy seemed to be more and more depleted with each move I made toward her.

I finally edged close enough to touch her. My hand reached out and made contact with her shoulder, and the cheetah rolled limply onto her back. She was so still, so pale, it frightened me. I felt for the pulse point on her neck and sighed in relief as I felt the tremble underneath my fingers. Another wave of dizziness hazed my vision, and I had pull back to try and keep my strength, keep myself from toppling onto her. I took a deep breath and waited for the sensation of drowning to pass.

Fighting back nausea, I swallowed hard and looked back down at my companion. An ugly bruise was darkening the skin underneath the ivory fur on her left cheek, but it was the welting burn streaking across her left temple that caused my anger to fire. It was a blast mark. _Kit had been right._

"Cheetara," I whispered softly and shook her shoulders gently, trying to coax her to open her eyes. The cheetah remained silent. The barely perceptible rise and fall of her chest gave the only indication that she was still alive. My finger tenderly traced the wound track lining her forehead. It looked as if it had been only a glancing blow, but if it were laced with thundranium then that would account for her unresponsive state. _But it didn't account for the radiation affecting me. _

My eyes traveled the contours of the cheetah's body. She was covered in drying blood, not hers. It was green, reptilian blood. Her arm cuff had been torn from her bodice, but it was the weakly shining metal bracelets that encircled her wrists, binding them together, that grabbed my attention. I reached out and touched the restraints; my fingers burned as they encountered the cuffs.

_Sweet Jaga, they were the source of the thundranium._

I had to get them off of her. I could already see angry, weeping sores circling her wrists where the manacles had made contact with her sensitive skin. I had no idea how long she had been restrained with these bands of poison, but the longer she was exposed directly to the radiation, the worse the damage would be. She was already weakened from the weapon's fire; further contact with thundranium could be…_fatal_.

The word echoed in my head prompting me to action. As gently as I could, I tried to break the bonds, but each time I attempted to pull them apart, the thundranium fused metal sapped my own strength. Another wave of dizziness swept through me, and my stomach began to burn uncomfortably.

My brain screamed at me to do something, help her, but I couldn't. With tears stinging my eyes, I carefully laid Cheetara back on the ground and stumbled away from her, from the poison now beginning to affect me.

Even though it would do her no good for me to succumb to the thundranium, my distance of only a few feet from her felt like a betrayal, failure. "I'm sorry," I choked on the words, my inadequacy as her leader, her friend, her…

_Call the sword, _a soft, voice suggested. It was almost a whisper, a seductive sound in my head.

"The sword," I repeated out loud. My voice sounded harsh compared to original thought.

_Yes,_ the voice purred temptingly, _with the sword, you can help her, save her._

"Save Cheetara." It was what I wanted more than anything. My hand slowly rose into the air. I closed my eyes and mentally reached for that special, psychic connection.

"Sword of Omens," I called, but I did not feel the familiar rapport build. My words, my voice, penetrated the fog in my brain. _What was I doing? I couldn't command the sword; I had given it to Tygra, relinquished it and my title._ My arm fell limply to my side; the words asking the Eye of Thundera for help died on my lips.

_Call it!_ the voice demanded, but the seduction had been replaced by fury.

I blinked at the order and shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I was suddenly aware of the brighter glare in the room. I started to sweat. The ambient temperature in the room had risen to almost uncomfortable levels. I raised my hand to shield my eyes and looked directly into the light. The wall that had been impenetrable fluctuated to transparent, and I could make out a feminine figure standing on the other side.

"I told you before that I couldn't call the sword. It is no longer mine to command."

"You are the Lord of the ThunderCats," WilyKit said and approached the cell to stand before me. _Not Kit,_ I told myself. For as much as the being in front of me looked like her, the actions the intentions radiating from her were alien. "The Eye of Thundera is your birthright."

"Not anymore."

An eerie blue-green glow emanated from WilyKit's usual burnt sienna colored eyes. "Deceiver," she growled and lashed out a hand. She didn't even have to physically touch me. My body flew from my position and crashed against the far wall of light. The impact forced the air from my lungs, and as if boneless, I slumped to the floor.

"What would you do with the sword?" I asked, trying to catch my breath. "It cannot be used for evil."

A laugh so familiar and yet completely unfamiliar rang through the air. "Who are you to judge light and darkness? You are but a mere cub," the creature stated, mirth chiming clearly in her words.

My eyes flickered to Cheetara, the bonds of thundranium dooming her to a certain death. "Then release her," I implored pointing at the stricken cheetah lying lifeless on the floor. "Show me your true nature."

"I didn't capture her," replied the entity with a dismissive flick of her hand.

"Kit," I tried again, attempting to reach the ThunderCat who must still reside in the body the alien had forcibly taken. "She will die if you leave her like that. Please, Kit, she is your friend."

The shadowy figure wavered for a moment. I caught a brief glimpse of WilyKit before the entity resolidified its hold on her body. "Very clever, lion, but if the cheetah dies it will be by your hand not mine. Call the sword, and you can save her."

"I already told you that I no longer command the sword," I growled, getting tired of this same song and dance. Why did every being we encounter want the sword? It was becoming an overplayed scenario. Didn't they know about its legend, its curse?

WilyKit cocked her head to the side as if she had heard my thoughts. "I'm not interested in your sword. I have no need of its power. I have my own. Your Eye of Thundera has something that belongs to me. I want it returned."

I blinked in confusion. "What belongs to you?"

An odd smile played across WilyKit's face, and at that moment, I did not believe the creature in front of me was anything but evil. "Grune," she finally spoke.

_Grune!_ I felt the shock register on my face, my jaw go slack. "But, Grune is gone. Jaga fought him; returned him from where he had come."

"My dear boy, if that were the case, I would not be here. You would not be here; and she," the figure turned to point at Cheetara, "would be in the clutches of your enemies rather than sharing her final fate with you.

"If you will not bring the sword to me, I shall get it myself, and this one will help me." The possessed Felis turned away from me. As she withdrew, the translucent wall began to grow more and more cloudy until it became solid once more.

Sadness filled my heart as I looked to my cellmate. She was wasting away, and I could do nothing to stop it. And, now, it seemed that I had failed Kit as well.

_Come on, Lion-O, _I berated myself, _feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to do anyone any good, especially not Cheetara or Kit. Think…_

I scoured the cell looking for anything I could use. Finally, I looked down at my tunic. _Maybe I could wrap this around her wrists, buy some time. It couldn't hurt._

I shed the shirt and ripped it into two pieces. Steeling myself against the effects of thundranium as much as I could, I returned to Cheetara's side. I tightly wrapped the cloth around her forearms and slid the bonds higher so that the cloth was now in direct contact with the metal. The alloy burned my fingertips as I worked, and the original piercing sensation in the pit of my stomach grew worse, tearing my insides with the insidious radiation.

Fighting to remain conscious and upright, I looked at the handcuffs around the cheetah's arms. I was pleased that I had managed to give her some cushion, but I also knew that any time that I had won was borrowed as long as she remained in such close proximity to the poison. I also knew that as long as I was in contact with the thundranium, I would not have the strength to remove them either. I gently settled Cheetara across my chest, hoping to give her some comfort for the little time she, we, probably had left.

My left hand rested at my thigh where my claw shield usually resided. I would have given anything for that weapon at that moment. _Stop it,_ I warned myself, feeling the helplessness waft over me. _You don't have the shield, so use the resources you do have. _My fingers idly flicked the clip that usually anchored the shield to my buckle. _Maybe,_ the sudden thought opened a well of hope. With a strength blossominf from desperation, I managed to pull the clasp from its position.

"Hang on," I whispered to Cheetara and lay her back on the ground. "I'll be back soon," I promised and moved as far away from her and the source of thundranium as the small room allowed. The distance allowed some of my waning strength to return. I managed to pull the clip straight so that I would be able to work the sharpened end into the lock securing the cuffs around Cheetara's wrists.

Again preparing myself for the radiation onslaught, I retraced my steps to the cheetah. I pulled her against me, leaning her against my side so that I could have full access to the restraints, and I began to attempt to pick the lock.

Precious seconds turned to minutes as I worked the lock. I could feel the effects of the poison obscuring my vision. _Can't pass out,_ I pleaded with myself. _If I lose consciousness, all will be lost._

Tears poured down my cheeks as I franticly began to twist the makeshift key in the lock. My movements were becoming more and more erratic, partly born of desperation and partly from the poison affecting my muscles.

_Weakling_, my mind screamed at myself, trying to spurn me onward. Girding myself with the determination that I would not fail, I gave the clasp one last twist, and the beautiful sound of a lock opening reached my ears.

I sobbed with relief as the metal restraints fell into my lap. With what remaining strength I had, I flung the radiation-tainted cuffs to the far wall, as far away from us as possible, before I yielded to the blessed respite of oblivion.

_TBC_

_--------_

_A/N: I know, Kit and Panthro- how could you? It was my muse not me. So you can either shoot my muse or stick around for the next chapter. Ciao, RL.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**The Eye Wall**

* * *

_The eye wall (the deadliest part of a hurricane) is literally a wall of clouds that surrounds the eye (ironically, the calmest area of a hurricane). _

_The eye wall can produce wind speeds over 155 miles per hour. This occurs because winds within the eye wall converge, creating havoc wherever they impact one another. The results are extreme, spiraling winds and copious amounts of rain._

* * *

I paced the small confines of my cell: twenty steps, turn; fifteen steps, turn; back to twenty and then to seventeen, if you counted the two skittering steps to avoid a snoozing S-Slithe. Halfway through my next rotation, I looked down at the reptilian. It was a good thing that he had a thick hide and that he possessed rudimentary regeneration, or he would have been dead shortly after I had arrived on the scene.

My foot nudged the discarded, bloody wrapping of the she-cat's sleeve and empty gauntlet. Upon waking in this weird, white prison, I had removed the bandage to get a better look at S-Slithe's injury. Cheetara had done a good job pulling the skin together. Perhaps, I had been mistaken about the she-cat's motives, but the axe in her hand had certainly implied that she was going to kill the reptile.

Maybe I should have let her. With S-Slithe out of the way, there would be a chance for me to take control. Then again, for all his imperfections, S-Slithe kept those other brutes at bay, and more times than not, he stayed out of my way. Better the enemy you know…

I stooped down and took another look at S-Slithe's wound. The reptilian's body was already creating a slick covering over the gash; I could see the initial keratin scales forming on the surface of the laceration, and the bleeding had stopped some time ago. Rather than attempting to recover the cut, I decided that exposure to air was the best course of action now. The secretions that S-Slithe's body automatically produced would help to keep out infection, but if the wound was already infected, then the swelling could ooze unperturbed as necessary. Besides, at this juncture, a cloth against the injury would be knitted into the scab potentially causing more harm.

Sighing, I resumed my pacing of the perimeter of the cell. I glanced at S-Slithe in envy. Unconsciousness seemed like a good idea at present. It certainly would help with my frustration over our current circumstances. I had no idea where we were or who or what had captured us.

The last thing I remembered is someone, something, standing over me. I could have sworn that it was a Thunderian female, but that didn't make any sense. Cheetara and Wily Kit were the only two she-cats of whom I was aware. Well, there was that new one, but she was a puma not a lion. What I had seen had had the markings of a Leo; of that, I was certain – I think…

Truthfully, I wasn't certain of anything. One moment I was standing over the cheetah prisoner; the next I was grabbing my head in attempt to keep the mother of all migraines at bay. Who knew what I had seen.

I stopped and ran my hand across the smooth surface of the prison walls. Solid light? That was my best guess as to what the odd material was. Not only was it opaquely translucent, but also if you stared hard enough, you could even make out your reflection. I smoothed my talons over my bald head and watched my mirrored counterpart follow suit. Fascinating. Or it would be under different circumstances. I had no idea how we were going to get out of whatever it was we had gotten ourselves into.

I examined my jaw, rubbing at the darker plumage. I would have to clip the feathers again soon or risk looking like one of my Lammergeier cousins. I shuddered with the image forced into my brain. I'd sooner pluck out the lot than be mistaken for Inqe and his brood. I turned my head from side to side gauging the lengths of the feathers running down the sides of my neck and on each side of my jaw.

"Preening, Vultureman?" a female's voice asked, her amusement chiming in melodic laughter.

I jumped several feet back, doing what must have looked like a jig to an outside observer, as I tried to maintain my footing. I had been so intent on my complexion that I hadn't noticed a transparent portal form in one of the walls. Inside the viewing apparatus was the distinct feline face of the youngest of the Thunderian females, Wily Kit.

I felt the sneer lift the corner of my beak as I glared at the youngling. "Why, Kitten, I didn't know that you had a thing for bald males, twice your age." I expected a flippant comeback; what I received was a deeper laugh.

"You have no idea what I like, little birdie, or what I can do."

I admit, I was taken back, if only momentarily. I certainly didn't expect such a suggestive dialogue from such a wisp of a female. I moved closer to the portal. Perhaps, I had been mistaken; a conk on the head would explain why I thought I was talking to Wily Kit.

My eyes roved over the body of the young ThunderCat, at least the portion that I could see. The kitten was growing up, but that did not explain the overly flirtatious remarks that even an adult, Thunderian female would be loath to make to a mutant. My gaze found her eyes. Their green challenging glint was another good indication that this was not Wily Kit.

"To whom do I have the honor of speaking?" I asked.

Wily Kit's eyes flashed in, what I could only surmise was, anger that I had seen through the illusion that had been cast. "I always said that the avians had the brains of the bunch," the she-cat muttered more to herself than to me.

"I'm always willing to be enlightened further," I encouraged, trying to keep the Thunderian's focus on me. She seemed vaguely familiar, and it was not just because this entity wore the body of Wily Kit.

A slow, seductive smile alighted across her lips, and I felt invisible fingers trailing along the fine down of my cheek, sliding down and coming to a stop at the tip of my beak. I closed my eyes in appreciation of the tantalizing stroke, a contact I hadn't had in what seemed like eons.

Let's face it, there were none in the bunch of mutants that I found in my company that I would want to touch me, let alone like that. I opened my eyes to see the being fully in the room with me now. How she had done so remained a mystery, which I no longer had the will to attempt to figure out.

"Do you still wish to possess the Sword of Omens," the being purred, once again moving her host's fingers to trail across my face and slowly lowering to stroke the plumage at my neck.

"Mmm, yes," I murmurred in answer, as the touch of her fingers reached the juncture of my neck and shoulder. By Plundarr, I didn't want this to end. Without thought, I leaned in to nuzzle the soft neck of the Thunderian teenager, and I found myself suddenly sprawled over S-Slithe.

Stunned, I shook my head and looked up. My gaze traveled up the well-formed physique of Thunderian legs, over a curve of hips, into the dip of a waist, across a swell of breasts just beginning to blossom to their fullest, along the hollow of a throat, into the darkest emerald eyes I had ever seen, green practically pulsating in fury at my actions.

No hands lifted me, but I was suddenly thrust into the wall at my back and forced upright to the point of being pinned to the partition. My legs dangled a few inches from contact with the ground. My throat constricted as a band of what felt like fingers dug into my windpipe. I attempted and failed to fill my lungs with air; my mouth gaped open with the effort.

Unable to make a sound, I pleaded my case with my eyes to the slowly advancing feline. It almost appeared as if she were stalking me; of course, that was more than likely an image conjured from oxygen deprivation. I locked my gaze on the ThunderCat's, and to my relief, I felt the grip around my throat slacken.

Coughing and drawing in great gulps of air, I crashed to my hands and knees too weak to stand and too grateful for the opportunity to breathe again to change my position. As my vision cleared through oxygen returning to starved, bodily systems, I found myself staring at iridescent claws decorating bare feet. I dragged my gaze back up to my captor's, being careful this time not to linger on her very fine feminine attributes. I didn't wish to anger her further.

The same colored claws attached to a hand gripped my bill at the commissure. Pain flared as the grasp put enough pressure on the juncture to cause serious injury. "Don't you ever presume to touch me!" the being snarled; she was so close that I could see my reflection in her icy stare.

I nodded ever so slightly, afraid that if I made any more movement I might encourage her to break my mandible in two. Taking my agreement as a promise, Wily Kit released me and glanced down at the reptile still lying prone at her feet. As she gauged my cellmate, I rubbed at my beak trying to ease the ache that was already beginning to make an appearance.

"He'll be fine," I offered, watching the teenage Thunderian bend down to examine S-Slithe more closely.

"Too bad," the being muttered, "The only good reptilian is a dead reptilian."

I had a tickle at the back of my brain, but I couldn't seem to place what I was trying to remember. "The sword," I reminded my captor, "what use is it to you?"

"It is of no use to me, and once you have possession of it, what does it offer you?" she countered.

"Nothing," I admitted, "but at least the playing field would be more level."

Wily Kit laughed, an eerie mocking sound that grated into my brachial plexus. "I gave you too much credit in the beginning, avian. Even without the Sword of Omens, the ThunderCats are more than a match for your mangy crew of mutants."

"They are no more technologically evolved than we are," I argued. "Without the sword, they loose their link; they loose their ThunderCat power."

"You make it sound as if the sword is some kind of talisman that gives them super powers."

"Doesn't it?"

Wily Kit shook her head slowly. "The sword and the ThunderCat emblem are only symbols. Yes, the sword has mystic powers, but it is not the reason you and your crew have been beaten time and again. It is the code by which those felines live that is your downfall. They cleave to it. It unites them in a form of brotherhood that you mutants could never penetrate."

"Bah," I scoffed, "it is that silly code that inhibits them. If they didn't have it, they would be savages. We wouldn't have stood a chance against them in their baser forms. Cheetara would have left S-Slithe to die rather than trying to find some way to save him. I've watched the leader, Lion-O, hold back on more than one occasion; when if he had just let loose, Third Earth would have a few less occupants. Why do you think Mumm-Ra lasted so long?"

"Mumm-Ra," Kit sneered with contempt at my mention of the name. "That devil priest no longer roams this Earth. It was his lust for power that created his own downfall and to what purpose? Possession of the Star of Thundera, give me a break. Did he think that he could command the cosmos? The Ancient Spirits of Evil would not accept such hubris from a once mortal. Nor would they have given their own servant the means to control such power. As it were, they only granted him enough power to make a nuisance of himself."

"You seem to know a lot about the mummy," I noted.

Those piercing green eyes flashed again before she redirected the conversation. "Do you still want the sword, avian?"

"Yes," I cawed in affirmation.

"Then, you need to do exactly as I say. The lion doesn't have the sword in his possession anymore."

"How do you know that?" I queried. I had never known the ThunderCat lord to not have that infernal sword at his side.

"Does it matter?" Wily Kit asked, and not stopping for me to answer, she continued, "He has assigned it to another of the ThunderCats, his second-in-command."

"That would be Tygra," I supplied and ducked my head in chastisement at the angry look the being threw at me for my interruption.

"They have been warned not to bring the sword to the Temple Ruins, so we must go to them now."

So, we were still in the Temple Ruins. Well, that was one mystery cleared. Unfortunately, the answer did little to explain the why of my current situation. "And, you need me?" I prompted.

"I need you and the reptile to perform a ruse, one that will bring the ThunderCats running to aid a fellow feline in time of distress, one that might cause them to react rather than act."

I still wasn't following the convoluted logic, but if this charade would remove me from this prison, give me a chance to break free, and maybe even provide the opportunity to claim the sword, I was game. I looked at the unconscious S-Slithe and then back at my captor turn conspirator. "I'm in, but how are we supposed to convince him?" I pointed to the prone form of the lizard who had not stirred during our entire conversation.

"You forget, birdie, I can be very persuasive."

* * *

I became conscious slowly. It wasn't the jolt that I usually associate with being brought to awareness but a gentle, rhythmic sensation that lulled me into the present.

I felt safe, warm. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in so many years that I was convinced that even though my senses declared that I was awake I was, in fact, still dreaming. And, if indeed I were still in the vestiges of sleep, I dearly hoped that this dream would continue for eternity.

A quiet thrumming quelled the pain that was attempting to fling me into full consciousness and pushed my aches to the edge of my perception. Ever so slowly, I opened my eyes – well, blinked them. A soft, radiant light filled my vision. It wasn't glaring; instead, it was soothing, peaceful, healing.

I glance up to where I expected the noonday sky to be, surely that amount of time must have come and gone, and found only a ceiling made of temperate light. I was not outside after all. Perhaps, I was in Pumyra's med bay. I knew that she had been working on a light therapy machine, and that would explain the cadence undulating in my ears – no, my ear. It was only coming from one direction.

I hadn't realized that I had closed my eyes again, and I forced them open and turned slightly toward the sound. A firm wall of something, something unyielding but in a soft cushioned way, stopped my head. I tilted my head back slightly and examined the unmovable object.

Stars of Thundera, could it be? I moved my hand up and held it barely hovering over the object. I hesitated. Would my hand settle or would it slip through? Was this all a psychological aberration conjured from my desperate mind?

I closed my eyes, purposefully this time. If my hand did fall through the object, I didn't think that I could handle the vision. The feeling of a flat, cold floor – I wasn't sure that I could handle that either, but I was willing to convince myself otherwise.

My hand slowly lowered and curved around the object: firm, smooth, heated. Sweet Jaga! My breath caught in my throat. I almost forgot how to breathe.

I opened my eyes. Even with the tears distorting my vision, I could make out the markings: the subtle graduations of tan and cream; the spots that curved just so and blended into the fur covering a shoulder and neck; the locks of mane colored in gold a few shades darker than my own, the spots trailing down like a mountain stream.

I bolted upright. Ignoring the dizziness almost blacking out my vision and the pain seeming to radiate throughout my entire body, I leaned against the strong chest, housing a steadily beating heart that had warmed my soul, in order to gaze at a face I had last seen on a scrap of paper colored with vibrant oils that had turned to ash at my feet.

Of their own power, my fingers traced the bold markings starting just below his eyes and trailing down his cheeks. I was sure they were permanent mirrors of the real tears I felt tracking from my own eyes.

"'Jani?" I called out softly, desperate to see the green, confirm that I wasn't cast into some surreal painting that Kit had created. My voice was a whisper, cracking with plaintive emotions. My breath paused in my lungs as his eyes flickered open.

"Cheetara?"

The voice, the tone, it was the same, or was it? I couldn't remember. I hadn't heard it in more than three, Third Earth solar years, more if you counted the years in suspension, but I didn't care. It was real enough for me.

My fingers touched his lips, silencing his question. Please, I begged in my head, subtly searching for that frayed, destroyed psychic bond. Even as emptiness returned to me, I pushed further; it had been so long. My hands threaded through his thick mane, and I pressed my lips against his. My eyes were closed again. I needed to feel not see.

Our lips touched ever so slightly, almost tentatively. There was the briefest hesitation, reminiscent of our first kiss, as though we were both searching for something so illusive it could only be found in another's breath. His lips parted in invitation. I accepted, nibbling on his lower lip – again, a hesitancy born of memory, for memorization. We danced in lovers' choreography: heads bending, lips brushing, lingering, a subtle change in breath, in scent. My lips warmed against his. My head swam as my heart swelled, rekindling a love that had known only despair for so long.

I couldn't seem to still my hands. They wandered of their own free will: sliding through mane, scratching against shoulder muscles, trailing wantonly across abs. I felt his heart beating against my own chest; I could hear the pounding as if it were my own – perhaps it was, the symmetry to my own rhythm a perfect match.

If it were even possible, he pulled me tighter to him. For every move I made, it was reciprocated: fingers grazing through my hair, trailing across my cheeks, kneading the tender flesh of my neck. Our positions changed. I was no longer on top of him but underneath him, yet even under his weight, I felt unencumbered.

I could feel the hunger in me growing, desire threatening to obliterate reality. Our gasping breaths sighed in each other's ears. The heat between us had grown exponentially reaching a fevered pitch. I was drowning in a sea of sensations long denied, destroyed. If only I could find our bond, we could be complete…

"Cheetara," Kijani exhaled my name as if it were a prayer and broke away from me, pushing off of me so that his weight was now completely supported on his extended arms. His breath was soft on my cheek. His tone begged me to open my eyes, to look at him.

Feeling bereft without his touch, I rested my head against the floor and cracked my eyes open to do what I had been bid. His image swam before me, a mixture of tans and reds. I tried to concentrate on his eyes, but I couldn't seem to keep my own open. Sound was becoming even harder to differentiate from the dull roar growing louder in my ears.

"Cheetara!"

My name sounded as if it was an issued order, and I managed to snap to attention. My tunneling vision cleared slightly, and I found myself staring into the worried face of the Lord of the ThunderCats. "Where is 'Jani?" I asked, hearing my words slur together.

"Kijani isn't here," Lion-O answered. "He has never been here. It has been me all along."

"You?" It sounded like an accusation even to my own ears, but it wasn't meant to be. I couldn't seem to concentrate on what the lion was trying to tell me.

I barely saw Lion-O duck his head, as my eyes fluttered closed again. With great effort, I forced them open. The lion's shoulders were slumped; his whole posture radiated his shame.

Jabari, what have I done? Finding strength I did not possess, I pulled myself into a semi-seated position and touched Lion-O's cheek. He steadfastly refused to look at me. "I'm sorry," I whispered and fell backward so that my back rested against the wall. My head followed suit, but I kept my gaze trained on Lion-O's face.

"You have no reason to be sorry," Lion-O replied. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I knew that you thought I was Kijani and I..." The lingering omission was punctuated by a heavy sigh. Still refusing to look at me, Lion-O pulled his legs to his chest and laid his chin on his crossed arms braced on top of his knees.

I didn't know what to say, so I kept my silence. There were no words to change what had happened between us, and I was too tired to try and sort it out anyway.

A slight burning itch directed my attention to my wrists. For some inexplicable reason, both of my wrists were bound with sections of Lion-O's tunic. Carefully, I pealed back one of the bandages, and under it, I saw the abraded skin, angry welts that were already starting to swell and weep. Images of my recent history flooded my mind: my fight with S-Slithe, his injury, my almost failure to stop and render aid, his attack, the implications that he would have raped me if given half a chance, the blast that slammed across my temple, thundranium, Vultureman…

"Cheetara," Lion-O shook my shoulders. I hadn't realized that I had fallen to my side. I gripped his shoulder as he pulled me back into a seated position.

The change in elevation was my undoing. I pushed away from him and threw up. Well, my body went through the motions of vomiting, but I had nothing to void. I fell into dry heaves after only removing a slight bit of bile from my stomach. I panted through the pain trying to quell the urge to purge the nothing in my stomach. The abdominal contractions slowly abated, and I fell weakly backward against the chest of Lion-O who had been trying to offer support throughout the whole ordeal.

"Easy," the lion murmured against my temple.

I began to shake. The trembling was exacerbated by a wash of cool air over my damp fur, which brought gooseflesh to my skin. Lion-O brought his arms up and encircled me, the heat of his body slowly penetrating the coldness of my own. Exhausted, I closed my eyes and leaned into the embrace. My head nestled against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. I could feel the pulse of his carotid artery, alive and steady. I used that beat as a meditation device, inhaling and exhaling with him.

"Better?" Lion-O asked; it was more of a rumble than a word.

I nodded the lie. I didn't think that I had the energy to voice the prevarication and sustain it as truth. I was suffering from radiation poisoning. From what I could tell, it was advanced. While the nausea and vomiting were disturbing signs, it was the difficulty I was having regulating my body temperature that was the most telling of the severity of the poisoning. If I did not get treatment soon, it would be too late, but voicing that truth would do Lion-O and me no good.

"You should rest; conserve your strength," Lion-O suggested, shifting position so that he could cradle me in his arms across his lap.

I didn't protest. It seemed to be the best solution right now, and I certainly wouldn't fight the comfort of his arms, his essence, surrounding me, protecting me. My eyes fluttered closed, and I was in the process of surrendering myself to blessed oblivion when a loud rending and earsplitting shattering thundered through our room.

Lion-O tucked me securely into his chest to protect me as prisms of what looked like glass rained around us. I only had the tiniest viewpoint from the crevice his arm and shoulder made as they shielded me, but I was able to see the looming form of a gray panther stumble into our room as the spider web of a light wall gave way, merging two rooms into one.

"Panthro?" Lion-O called out to the figure falling to his knees in an effort to slow his forward progress.

"Lion-O," Panthro gasped as he attempted to catch his breath. It must have taken an incredible effort to break the wall separating us.

Lion-O quickly shifted me in his arms and pulled himself to standing. I felt like a newborn cub unable to do the slightest activity on my own. Easily supporting me with one arm holding my body against his, the lion offered his other hand to aid Panthro's ascent to his feet.

"And, Cheetara," Panthro added, taking the offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. I watched his eyes narrow as he took stock of me. There was a sight flaring of his nostrils as he caught altered scents in the room.

I could feel my face heat as I thought back to the misunderstanding that had transpired a short while ago. Could the panther know?

"Thundranium?" Panthro asked. I felt a gentle hand on my chin and realized that I had once again lost track of where I was.

"Yes," Lion-O confirmed, and I could only complete half a nod as I leaned my head back into the crook of the lion's shoulder. It seemed as if that indentation was made just for me.

"How long?" I heard Panthro ask as if from far away.

I felt Lion-O's chin barely brush the top of my head as he looked at me. I assumed that he was looking at me because I was suddenly too tired to even open my eyes to confirm what my other senses were telling me.

"I don't know," I heard the rumble of the lion's voice confess. "She was shot, a glancing blow, from a thundranium-laced bolt."

Ah, yes, good ole Vultureman coming to S-Slithe's rescue as I was about to embed the head of the battle axe into his chest. I remembered the blast had incapacitated me in seconds. I felt fingers turn my head to presumably look at the wound; they were much gentler than the taloned-mutant's had been.

"I found her in shackles when I woke up here," Lion-O continued. His hand left my exposed shoulder as he motioned to something else in the room.

Shackles? Until now, I had forgotten about them. I had blacked out as soon as I had heard the metal click, felt the hot touch of poison in direct contact with my skin. The warm weight of the lion's hand returned to my shoulder. I took comfort in his touch.

"How did you get here?" Lion-O asked Panthro.

I listened for the answer, but it seemed as if the males were suddenly whispering. Slowly, my head slid further against the lion's neck. The thrum of his pulse was steady, lulling. It was the last thing I heard before everything faded away.

_--TBC --_

---

A/N: Sorry about the delay in updating. As the holidays convene/converge, I find it more difficult to find time to write. Rest assured though, I'm still working on this story – Regards, RL

_-----_

_**Terms/Sources:**_

Eye wall: Sir Francis Drake High School, San Anselmo, CA. The Rock Water Project. (2002). Hurricanes and other storms: "Parts of a Hurricane." Researched on the World Wide Web, 12/5/2008.

Lammergeier – also known as the bearded vulture, Gypaetus barbatus ("Bearded Vulture-Eagle"). It is an Old World vulture, the only member of the genus Gypaetus.

Inqe – Zulu origin, means vulture.

Jabari – Swahili origin used as an Acinonyx curse/plea means Allah, god, supreme ruler


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**The Eye of the Storm**

* * *

_The eye is the calmest part of a hurricane. While a hurricane itself is a low-pressure system, it contains high pressure near the top of the storm, which began as it was forming, and this high pressure causes the air in the eye to sink. High pressure is associated with nice weather; hence, this is why the eye is calm._

* * *

"Now let me get this straight," Snarf interrupted me and stopped his pacing on the small window ledge, his usual post during a council meeting. He pulled himself upright, practically balancing himself on his prehensile tail. It made his slight two and a half foot frame appear even larger, and it was a telling indicator that the snarf was agitated.

"Brrr, Jaga told you that under no circumstances should the sword leave the Lair, and that is why you assumed command, snarf, snarf?" he continued; the usual burr in his voice took a on a greater vibrato as he spoke. It was another sign of the level of his anxiety.

I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could get a word out, Snarf jumped down from the ledge and onto the council table and approached me across the tabletop. My mouth stayed open in silent shock. I had never seen him do this.

"So, why didn't you tell Lion-O all of this," he demanded, coming face to face with me.

"Forget Lion-O," Wily Kat growled, jumping to his feet from his own position on the far side of the table. "What about Kit? You didn't think it was a good idea to tell us about this until now? Now, that it is probably too late." His hand slammed down on the table in his vehemence, demonstrating his own state of mind.

I held up my hands in a pacifying manner although I doubted that the gesture would calm any of them. I wasn't that calm myself over the recent events. "Now, hold on, everyone," I soothed, using my best counseling voice. "I know that you are all upset and with good reason," I added, remembering the best way to settle ill feelings was to address them. "I am not thrilled with how the situation has turned out either."

"Snarf, I didn't tell Lion-O because he didn't let me. He was all fired up and ready to go after Cheetara no matter what. He ignored Jaga. What chance did I have?"

"You're his friend, you should have tried."

"I did try, and I had no more success than you did," I shot back. Snarf's ears drooped with my attack. I didn't particularly enjoy my retaliation, but the snarf had given me little option. Our bickering was getting us nowhere.

"Lion-O made his own choice, but at least, he had more information that Kit did," Wily Kat continued his own assault from across the table.

The teenager had a point, and I knew it. I felt terribly guilty about his sister's involvement in this entire mess, but it wasn't a mess of my making, and I could not take full responsibility for everyone's actions. "To be fair, Kat, Wily Kit didn't stick around long enough to hear any of this anyway. She decided to go with Panthro and Lion-O. She stowed away on the tank all on her own; she made her choice as much as Lion-O did."

I saw his anger that had been so quick to flare disperse, and his posture drooped with it as he slid back into his seat. "It doesn't mean that I have to like it," Kat muttered, the resignation in his voice obvious.

"I know that it is of little consolation, but neither do I," I agreed.

"Jaga was afraid. I have never seen the spirit in such a state."

"I have never seen him before at all," Bengali grumbled. My white tiger cousin was not known for his tact, and the waiting around was trying the little patience that he had as well.

I sent a glare to the other tiger so that he knew that I had heard him, and I amended my previous statement with emphasis on two clarifying words, "I have never _heard_ Lion-O _describe_ Jaga in such a state."

Bengali shifted slightly in his chair, but his arms remained tightly crossed against his chest clearly showing his disapproval of my handling of the circumstances. I didn't think I was doing a stellar job at present either. But, Jaga had been so vague that I had had little to go on.

I probably should have called a council meeting as soon as Lion-O had taken off with Panthro, but I didn't want to appear that my accepting the sword was a permanent change. I had spent so much time concerned about everyone else's perceptions that I had cost us precious time.

"Tygra," Lynx-O's address brought my attention back to the present. His tone of voice, his manner, exuded confidence in my abilities just by the use of one word, my name. "Perhaps, if you started at the beginning again, we might be able to sort this out amongst ourselves."

I nodded my agreement and thanks and then remembered that the eldest ThunderCat could not see. I was about to verbalize my gratitude when I saw him smile and nod surreptitiously back at me, reminding me that even with his lack of physical sight the lynx could see better than most of us.

"Very well," I agreed and set my gaze to look at each and every member present. "As you know, Cheetara set out after the mutants. My best guess is that she was going to seek out S-Slithe himself. She wants to face him, confront what he has done.

"While I do not condone her actions, I do understand them. The recent events have put a terrible strain on her. But regardless of the circumstances of her leaving, I also believe that she will act according to the Code whether or not she is wearing the ThunderCat emblem." Everyone at the table nodded with my assessment of the cheetah, even Bengali, to my surprise.

"Lion-O went after her. He stopped briefly when Jaga appeared. The spirit attempted to dissuade him from going, but he had no luck in convincing our young lord. Lion-O has always seen himself as our friend, our equal, before his title. It makes him a great leader; it also makes him extremely fallible."

"When Jaga realized that his words were falling on deaf ears that Lion-O had already made up his mind to go after Cheetara, he appeared to me. This is not a common practice." I turned slightly to put Bengali in the center of my attention. I needed him to understand that he was not alone in not seeing the spirit. For some reason, I felt that he might take it as a personal affront, think that the spirit had ignored him, seen him as unworthy. As ridiculous as that sounded in my head, I also knew that the white tiger was especially sensitive about his abilities and that any personal misgivings he may have, real or imagined, affected how he performed in battle and impacted his interaction with friends and allies.

"Jaga usually only appears to Lion-O as his spiritual mentor. I'm not even sure Snarf sees him?"

Snarf looked up and shook his head in confirmation of my guess.

"We have only seen him in his spirit form once before, a long time ago, when a couple of Balkins released Grune the Destroyer from his resting place."

"Woah," Pumyra stopped me, "You lost me. Who is this Grune?"

As I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts, I saw Wily Kat squirm slightly in his chair. "Kat, I know that you think that this story is probably a waste of time, but I'm not so sure. Something tells me that Grune and these recent events may be related."

Wily Kat stared hard back at me. Finally, he lowered his eyes from their challenge but not before muttering under his breath, "Not like it matters what I think; you're going to do whatever you want, Lord of the ThunderCats."

His words stung, but I refused to show how much or indicate that I had even heard them.

I began, "Grune was one of us, a Thunderian, a saber tooth, and a Thundercat. A long time ago, back on Thundera, Grune and Jaga were once close friends and allies. They fought together during the Mutant Wars; it was their alliance that turned the tide against the mutants and transformed Thundera into the peaceful society that we remember.

"In the aftermath, when Thundera became tranquil and our system of government firmly established, greed and the hunger for power overtook Grune. He believed that he was the rightful ruler of Thundera. He challenged the royalty to usurp the throne. He lost.

"Not willing to accept defeat and claiming the outcome of the anointment trial as fixed, unfair, Grune, leading a band of marauders, began what we know as today as the Clan Wars. Several of the clans were swayed by Grune's claims of unfairness and agreed to join him to challenge the social order that determined our way of life, our system of governance. During the pinnacle battle, the battle that ended the Clan Wars, Jaga faced Grune. They battled for days, one against the other, but Jaga was the stronger; he won.

"As punishment for his treason and corrupting the basic tenets of the Code of Thundera, Grune was banished. Under orders from the throne, Jaga cast Grune to the cosmos in a crystal shielded suspension capsule. It was a fate worse than death, and a practice outlawed shortly after by the newly established ThunderCat Council. Right before he was exiled, Grune swore vengeance on the ThunderCats and Jaga, in particular.

"In a strange twist of fate, Grune found his way to Third Earth. Unchallenged and unstoppable, he wreaked havoc and despair here. When he finally died, a mystic symbol was placed on his tomb to prevent his spirit from escaping and continuing to terrorize the citizens of Third Earth from beyond the grave. The icon also kept Mumm-Ra from being able to use Grune as one of his minions.

"One night, not long after we crash landed on Third Earth ourselves, two Balkins unwittingly opened Grune's tomb, breaking the seal and setting Grune, or his spirit anyway, free. Grune discovered that we Thunderians had found our way to Third Earth as well and remembering his vow set out after us.

"Our Lair systems went haywire. We had a number of unexplained happenings, and all of our thundrillium supplies were drained. Grune was haunting us, and he was growing in stature and strength with the aid of our energy resources. Full of power, he left us to restart his reign of terror on Third Earth, trampling and laying waste to several villages.

"Essentially powerless and not knowing what had been unleashed upon us, we went to Cheetara. She used her sixth sense to put herself into a trance that sent her back into the past, to the collective of our history. She was the one who related the story of Grune to us.

"Because we could not physically fight a ghost, Lion-O called forth Jaga, a ghost himself. It was the first time I had seen Jaga since the day we had entered the suspension capsules. But, the gambit was what Grune had wanted all along.

"Grune wanted a rematch, to prove that he was the rightful heir to Thundera's throne even if planet were no more, and he fought with malice and deceit. While he had been rampaging his way across Third Earth, he had also gone to the Fire Rock Mountains and somehow had formed a mace made of pure thundrainium. As you know, thundrainium emits a high level of radiation to which we are easily susceptible. Too much exposure to thundrainium can be fatal. As Jaga fought, the thundrainium effects weakened him, and he lost his weapon.

"Not willing to allow Grune to win by such underhanded tactics, Lion-O had the Sword of Omens cross over to the astral fields and compelled Jaga to use the sword and to augment his failing strength with Lion-O's own mortal strength. The strategy worked. Although we almost lost Lion-O, Jaga defeated Grune once more.

"After their battle, Grune extended his hand in friendship to Jaga to repent his evil ways, but when Jaga took the offered hand, Grune slipped by him and took the Sword of Omens from Jaga's belt. As he prepared to use the sword against Jaga, the Eye of Thundera intervened. Jaga was spared; Grune was not."

I blinked at the end of the story and found my hands holding the Sword of Omens in a loose grip. On the ceiling were the last images that I had related to the members present. They had been projected by the Eye of Thundera as a sort of holographic movie giving graphic imagery to my words.

I suddenly felt drained and slid into the chair behind me grateful that I had had the presence of mind to relate the tale of Grune from my seat at the table.

Both Wily Kat and Snarf stared at me from the opposite side of the table. Both wore identical shocked expressions on their faces, but I couldn't decide if it was because of the way the sword had relayed my words graphically or if it was because of the additional information that I had provided about Grune. When Cheetara had told the story, she had said nothing about the Clan Wars or Grune's attempt at overthrowing the government or Mumm-Ra's non-involvement. From where had that information come?

"I didn't know that the sword could do that," Kat broke the silence, his eyes glued to the now silent dagger resting on the table in front of me.

I hadn't either, but I kept my peace. I was too tired to come up with a plausible explanation.

"It must be some kind of public sight-beyond-sight," Bengali guessed

"But, what happened to Grune?" Pumyra finally asked the one question to which I still didn't have a firm answer. Perhaps that is why I felt the warning that Jaga had imparted to me and the missing ThunderCats were related.

I shrugged my shoulders. "As far as I understand, the Eye of Thundera dispatched its own version of justice."

"Funny how all of us Thunderians, good and not, keep ending up here on Third Earth," Bengali noted, but still seeming unconvinced, he added, "You think that this is why Jaga told you to keep the Sword of Omens in the Lair?"

I found myself shaking my head in consternation. "All I know is that this is first time that Jaga has appeared directly to me and only the second time that I have seen him since we left the flagship. I simply cannot accept these two incidences as coincidence."

"Tygra, you said that Jaga seemed frightened; what did you mean by that?"

I looked at Lynx-O. He hadn't questioned my gut feeling, my beliefs. "Jaga was cryptic, almost as if he were forbidden to give me more information. He simply told me that the fate of the ThunderCats remained in keeping the sword within the walls of the Lair. He said that our greatest battle must be won without the Eye of Thundera."

Pumyra visibly shivered at my words, and Bengali placed his hand on top of hers to offer some comfort. I knew how the puma felt. Even though the words had come from my mouth, I had an equal sense of foreboding slide down my spine.

The sword suddenly growled a warning of danger, and as the closed eye pulsed, the sword physically turned on the table to slide its hilt into my hand. I gulped as I remembered my last encounter.

All eyes fixed on me as I pulled the sword up and placed the eye against my temple. Feeling my mouth grow dry, I whispered the command for sight-beyond-sight. The crossbars grew and curled around my eyes, and my mind was immediately filled with haze. I took a deep breath and waited for the sensation to clear. Like mists parting from the sun, images began to coalesce crisply from the fog.

_Panthro chained to a prison wall –a flash of white-hot light – his lips bloodied; his face covered in bruises –fuzzy static clearing to an image of him being kissed by someone who looked a lot like Wily Kit. _

_Cheetara and Lion-O huddled in a dark cell – blinding white light – Cheetara embracing Lion-O like a lover – static haze – Cheetara covered in blood barely breathing, not moving. _

_Lion-O badly beaten, clutching at Cheetara, begging her to hold on until help arrived – blue tunneling visions of Panthro and Lion-O talking together in a room of light, Cheetara cradled against Panthro's chest – Lion-O collapsing across the lone cheetah, blood drenched._

_Images shifted to a wetland area near Castle Plundarr. A slight view of the Temple Ruins could be seen in the background._ _Wily Kit, bound hand and foot, stumbled across a ground choked with vegetation – lightning flashed – Kit laughing with Vultureman, her hand on his beak – Thick sinewy arms covered in green scales violently pulled Kit to her feet. Taloned hands pushed a blaster into her back forcing her forward urging her to go faster._

"Wily Kit!" Kat shouted, pulling me from the disjointed images pounding in my brain.

I stumbled forward, and my thighs crashed into the table; the sword fell from my fingers and clanged loudly on the tabletop. Stunned, I looked up to catch a glimpse of Wily Kat's back as he fled from the room.

"Wily Kat," I called out; my voice sounded weak. I could barely form his name. I felt arms warm and supportive guide me into a chair even as I struggled to go after the adolescent.

"Easy, Tygra," Pumyra murmured.

"Kat?" I managed to form the one word into a question. My mouth received some blessed moisture in the form of a cup pressed to my lips. Thirstily, I swallowed the drink and tried to verbalize my question again. "Where is Wily Kat? Where was he going?"

Pumyra's face swam before my eyes, and I blinked quickly to settle the image. "Don't you remember?" the healer asked.

"No."

"When you commanded the sword to give you vision, it shared what you saw with all of us. Wily Kat saw Kit in chains and went after her."

"Jāhānnāma," I cursed and pulled myself to standing ignoring the vertigo blinding my sight. "I have to go after him."

Pumyra's firm hand steadied me as my right knee buckled. "You are in no shape to go anywhere. Bengali and Lynx-O went after him. Besides," the puma silenced my beginning protest, "you said that the sword could not leave the Lair."

My head fell into my hands that I had braced on the table in front of me; my fingers threaded through the sides of my thick mane. Jaga's words of warning echoed in my brain, and the full weight of the mantel of watching over the ThunderCats cast its burden upon me. How could I lead, protect those in my care, if I must stay behind?

* * *

I looked at the white-lit walls surrounding me. They seemed to be identical to the ones that had surrounded my cell. While I had been hopeful that when I had finally broken out of my prison that I would be free, I was content that I had found Lion-O and Cheetara.

I glanced at the pair that had settled back on the floor and heard Cheetara moan softly. Lion-O shushed her and tucked an errant strand of her mane behind her ear. I turned back to my task of investigating the walls in order to give them some privacy in a room that had none.

Cheetara's sickness from the radiation was bad. I knew it, and I knew that Lion-O knew it too. Even though I had kicked the poisoned shackles into what had been my cell to give us all needed distance, the golden hour to stave off permanent damage from severe exposure to the thundrainium was quickly slipping away.

"Bah!" I snarled in frustration and ran my hand along the full, smooth expanse in front of me. "Where exactly did you say you saw the being exit the room?"

Effortlessly, still holding onto Cheetara, Lion-O hauled himself to his feet and walked over to me. "She entered right here." He pointed at the wall that I was inspecting. By some unspoken agreement, neither Lion-O nor I were referring to our captor as Wily Kit even though we were both quite aware that her body had been possessed by something, someone.

"And, she left in the same direction, but I was a little distracted," the lion admitted and spared a glance at his charge sleeping fitfully in his arms. "I am sure it was this wall – just not the exact point."

"All right, well I'll just have to use a little persuasion then." I pulled my arm back and slammed my closed fist into the partition. The blow radiated up my arm into my shoulder and neck, but the vibrations didn't even make a shimmer in the light field creating the wall.

Sliding my other hand a few meters to the left, I repeated my punch. It hurt. Slamming one's fist into an immoveable, solid object usually does. I watched the ripple of the field from the impact of my flesh, and I thought I caught a subtle deviation several meters to the left of where I had been centering my attack.

"Did you see that?" Lion-O asked, pointing to the same spot that I too had noticed.

I nodded and allowed myself to smile. That gesture hurt too. I rubbed my hand against my lower lip and felt the scab that had clotted there. Anger built, and I could feel my muscles coiling with the emotion. That being would pay for twisting the image of Wily Kit in my head and turning a familial relationship into something else, something filthy.

I launched a volley of jabs into the center point of the flaw in the field that I had seen. I unleashed my fury at the entity that had hurt me, us, so much. My fists slammed into the wall one after the other. I felt sweat course down my fur, run down the center of my back, but I didn't let up not even when my name pierced the haze of my brain.

"Panthro!" a voice cried out followed by a hand grabbing my shoulder.

Rage still pulsed in my brain, and I turned to the hand that had dared to touch me. Before I realized where I was and what I was doing, I threw an uppercut at the intruder followed immediately by a cross.

"Kutar baicha!" I growled, pulling myself back from throwing another punch at Lion-O.

Lion-O blinked up at me and stood from his protective stance over Cheetara. "What did you say?" he asked, probably in regard to the curse I had spat out in the heat of the moment.

"Nothing," I replied. If he wanted to know, he could darn well ask Bengali later. I ran a shaky hand over my maneless head. It was a good thing that the lion had quick reflexes, or I would have done serious damage to him or to Cheetara. I still wasn't sure how he dodged my attack, but I was grateful that he had.

"Mavi, Lion-O," I hissed, as the full realization of what might have happened dawned, "I could have…"

"But you didn't," Lion-O interrupted. "Panthro," the lion continued, placing a hand on my forearm to draw my attention to my fists, "you have to stop."

I looked at the bruises darkening under the fur on my fingers. The color was changing from a subtle shade of gray to an ugly variant of gray mixed with dark, reddish purple. The skin had split across most of my knuckles, and they were beginning to bleed, muting the multicolor in my fur with wetness.

I glanced back to the wall, which I had savagely pummeled. The light spilling from behind the section on which I had been working had turned pink, my blood glowing transparently on its surface. While eerie in itself, I could also make out a tiny spider web of darker red where my blood was pooling into minor fissures. It was proof that I was making headway.

I turned back to look at Lion-O and then let my gaze fall to Cheetara. "I can't," I argued.

As I began to get ready to work some more on the fractures, Lion-O once again grabbed my bicep in an attempt to stop me. "You have to."

"No, I don't," I replied and slammed my fist into the wall again. I bit back the howl that accompanied the slice of pain throbbing through my entire hand.

"Panthro, I order you to stand down!"

I faltered for a second and then completely ignored the directive. I hit the barrier with my other fist. "No, can do, Lion-O; you aren't the Lord of the ThunderCats right now."

"Panthro," a softer voice called out, stopping my hand in mid-motion.

I stopped and locked my eyes on the cheetah. She tried valiantly to keep hers open, blinking them several times in her attempt to focus on me. "Listen to him," she whispered.

I took the two steps to where they stood and took Cheetara from Lion-O's arms. "That was unfair playing that card," I grumbled.

"I know," she sighed and rested her head against my shoulder. I could feel the heat from a fever burn where her skin touched my chest and neck. Not opening her eyes, she continued in a half-garbled voice. "He needs this too." Her lips quirked a slight smile as she finished, "Besides, why should you have all the fun?"

"You want a run at it too?" I teased.

"Just point me in the right direction, and I'll…" her words stopped as a coughing fit took her breath.

"Easy," I consoled and helped to position her so she was almost completely upright. It took her a few more seconds before she was able to clear her lungs. I had heard the wet sound of her breathing and looked to my chest. I could see fine droplets that looked like blood dotting my coal gray fur.

"Cheetara!" I called out in alarm.

"I know," she wheezed and swiped her hand across her mouth. Her palm came away streaked in her own blood.

"Lion-O, we have to get her out of here, now!"

The urgency in my voice tore Lion-O's attention from where he had been working to enlarge the weakness in the field I had started. Rapidly, his eyes flitted from me, to the blood splattered on my fur, to Cheetara's face, and then to the trickle of blood curling from the corner of her lips.

With a soul-shattering scream, the lion slammed his fist into the distortion. There was a crash of what sounded like glass, and his arm was swallowed into a makeshift hole. With his right arm buried in the wall all the way up to his elbow, Lion-O roared again and thrust his other hand into the now breaking wall, ripping a hole big enough to fit an adult Thunderian, but he didn't stop there. He continued to tear at the partition until there was literally nothing left, and we were plunged into darkness.

It took several precious seconds for my cat senses to adjust from high light to practically no light. "Lion-O?" I called and moved toward the sound of heavy breathing.

I heard a noncommittal grunt break the haggard intake of breath and took that as acknowledgement of the lion's position and relative health. In front of us, a black hallway stretched. At the end of the corridor, there appeared to be an opening or something surrounded by a rectangle of light.

"Let's go," I called and led the way to the backlit doorway. When I reached the end, I tested the structure. It was wood, but it was also barricaded. "Jāhānnāma," I growled in anger.

Lion-O pushed past me and had a go at the heavy wooden beam holding the door closed. He heaved twice but the post barely moved.

"My turn," I insisted and carefully laid Cheetara in his arms. Looking at the mechanism barring our path, I squatted down until I could wedge my shoulder under it and get my footing planted directly underneath me.

Counting to three silently to myself, I forced my quadriceps to center my core to bear the brunt of the weight and lifted the bar off of the cross braces. I heard the slight grate of my ribs as they bowed from the pressure. A line of fire burned across my side, and I knew that my newly healed fractures had probably just given way.

My energy depleted, I tilted sideways away from Lion-O and Cheetara and allowed the solid bar to crash harmlessly to the floor. With nothing to hold it closed, the paneled door fell inward and slammed onto the stone floor at our feet. Bright sunlight filled the room and made the dust kicked up by the impact sparkle in a foggy brilliance.

"Finally," I breathed in triumph and held up a hand to shield my eyes from the glare of the noonday sky. We were free, but where were we? I looked around and recognized the crumbling architecture of the Temple Ruins. I turned around slowly and looked at the building where we had been trapped, held prisoner. It was the same building that Kit, Lion-O and I had skirted on our way to the crashed Nose Diver.

A shadow fell across mine, and I looked over my shoulder as Lion-O made his way carefully from the building. He adjusted his grip on Cheetara trying to jostle her as little as possible. Groggily, her eyes flickered open and met mine. I saw the ghost of a smile curve across her lips before her eyes closed again and her head lolled further into Lion-O's shoulder.

"Which way?" Lion-O asked, but it sounded more like a demand.

"The ThunderTank is that way." I pointed and began to head in the direction of salvation.

"How are we going to get over the Bridge of Slime?" Lion-O asked, trailing a few paces behind me.

I stopped for a moment and then pushed forward. In my haste to get to the tank, I had forgotten about that one very big obstacle, and with Kit no longer with us…

"We'll think of something," I replied, feigning more optimism than I felt. It wasn't like we had any other choice. Other than the Temple Ruins, the closest structures were the Black Pyramid and Castle Plundarr; neither of which were areas that would offer us the assistance we needed.

As we made our way over a small ridge, I could clearly see the Bridge of Slime, its towering, green, ooze covered arch branching the brackish waters of the River of Despair. Just beyond, I could make out the metal sheen of the ThunderTank still waiting for our return.

Barely slowing down, I hurried to the edge of the river. Black Widow Shark or two-headed swamp monster, it didn't matter. Cheetara was in desperate need of help now. At the edge, I executed a perfect swan dive and heard Lion-O shout my name just as my head entered the murky water.

"Jabari," Lion-O cursed at me as my head popped out of the water. "Panthro, what?"

"We don't have any time left, Lion-O," I yelled back kicking my feet and using my arms to propel me to the other side. "Cheetara won't last much longer, and there is no way you can cross the bridge carrying her."

"You should have let me go," Lion-O growled, still apparently angry with me.

"No time. Besides, you're going to have to help me figure out how to get Cheetara over here without swimming." I kicked harder as a current seemed to come from nowhere and started to pull me away from the progress I was making toward the shore.

"Panthro, watch out!" Lion-O yelled the warning just as I felt the current swirl again.

"Mavi," I cried out, as I caught the glow of yellow eyes moving just below the surface of the water. It wasn't a current at all; it was the Black Widow Shark! I kicked hard and managed to get a foot on the nose of the shark as it attacked. Using my momentum, augmented by the snapping motion from the shark's jaw, I was able to move several meters toward my goal. Unfortunately, my maneuver also angered the water beast.

Flipping its whole body into the air, the shark changed directions and was now directly in my path to shore. Suddenly, a large splash echoed off the bank several meters from me, and a plume of color rose to the surface. Sensing wounded prey, the shark broke off its attack and swam toward its new quarry. Using the distraction to my advantage, I dove under the water and managed to touch the bottom of the riverbed. Quickly, I half-swam, half-ran to safety.

Gulping in air, I turned to look at where I had last seen the shark. It continued to swim around an orange and green object floating in the water. Praying that they would still be there, I looked to where I had last seen Lion-O and Cheetara. Across the bank, I saw Lion-O raise his hand to signal that they were okay; I returned the gesture and dragged myself up the steep, muddy slope of the riverbank.

Grubby and exhausted, I hauled myself into the driver's seat of the ThunderTank and turned the ignition. My baby caught on the first try, and I swallowed a sob of relief. I immediately attempted to contact the Lair on the radio, but all that I got was dead air.

"Blast," I hit the steering wheel as my relief was immediately overcome by frustration.

An idea suddenly formed in my head. Of course, if the Kittens had even suggested the little stunt I was contemplating, I would have grounded them for life. What I was about to do was as dangerous as it was foolhardy, but I didn't have any other bright ideas. Quickly, I turned the tank to face the Bridge of Slime. I activated the rear gun and watched as the back compartment opened and the platform rose. In position, I hopped onto the turret and targeted the other side of the bridge.

"Ho, Lion-O!" I called across the bridge to where Lion-O was waiting. I had to cup my hands over my mouth to project my voice loud enough for him to hear me.

"Ho, Panthro," Lion-O returned.

"Communication is a no go. Radio is dead. So, Plan B: I'm going to shoot you a grapple line and then send over half a space board – it doesn't have any mechanical parts, so it is light. Tie Cheetara and yourself off. Once you are secure, I'm going to haul you in. It will be like water boarding, except that you will be sliding over a bridge covered in slime and no boat."

I watched the lion shake his head at my description. No doubt he was saying something slightly derogatory about the insanity of my plan, but he was too far away for me to hear it. I was sure he didn't have a better plan, so I waited. Sure enough, he called to me, "Ready!"

I aimed at a rock outcropping several meters from where Lion-O stood. Then I popped the trigger. A barbed shaft shot from the cannon and pierced the boulder I had sighted. I gave it a tug to verify that it had a strong connection; then I clamped the space board carcass to the line on a zip-pulley. I put my entire body weight into the push, and the board scooted all the way across the river to Lion-O's waiting hand.

Within a few short minutes, Lion-O had secured a rope around both Cheetara and himself. He settled them on the board and pulled his end of the line taut. "Okay," he shouted.

"Now the hard part," I growled to myself. The biggest worry I had, besides hurting Cheetara anymore than she had been, was that they might slip over the edge of the slippery arch. I would have to really move fast to help Lion-O keep his balance and direction. Any slow down, until the end of course, could be disastrous.

"All right, Lion-O, I'm going to move you fast. Whatever you do, don't let go."

I'm sure the expression that the lion shot at me was priceless, but I was too far away to see it. "On three," I yelled.

"One." Lion-O braced Cheetara back against him and gripped the line in both hands.

"Two." Lion-O bent his legs, centering their combined weight on the board.

"Three!" I hit the winching mechanism and jumped down to help with what I hoped was a successful stop.

Lion-O and Cheetara flew across the Bride of Slime. At the apex of the arch, they hit a bump and began an out of control descent bouncing across the remaining portion of the passage. As the space board crossed onto terra firma, I sliced through the line, severing the couple from the winch.

The loss of tension did nothing to slow their arrival. Hitting one more bump, Lion-O vaulted into the air kicking the board up out of the way. I had to dodge quickly to the right to avoid the lethal projectile as it zoomed past me and slammed into a sapling. The tree snapped in two, and the board slid into the ground, embedding itself nose first.

I turned in time to see Lion-O land on his feet and maintain his footing although he had to take two steps forward to regain his balance.

"Ha, ha, we did!" I cheered, relief pouring out in a somewhat maniacal laugh.

"That we did," Lion-O agreed and began to disentangle the line securing Cheetara to him. "Though, promise me we never do that again."

"I don't know," Cheetara whispered and tried to help the lion remove the rope from around her. "I could go again."

It was then that I realized what the splash that had saved me from the Black Widow Shark had been. Cheetara had sacrificed a large portion of her bodice as a decoy. Since it had been saturated with mutant blood, the scent had immediately drawn the shark's attention.

Lion-O shook his head at the cheetah's remark. "You would seriously do that again?" he asked, but his voice carried more amusement than shock.

"Yes, I…" another coughing jag cut her off.

Lion-O met my worried gaze with one of his own. Seeing the bloody drops accompanying her cough spurred us into action. Lion-O scooped up Cheetara and dove into the passenger seat. I took the driver's seat and pushed the tank full throttle toward Cat's Lair. I didn't even close the back compartment before we started. I made those adjustments as we raced home. Time had almost run out.

_--TBC--_

* * *

_A/N:_

_I took some liberties embellishing Grune's history. The majority is canon and comes from __Ghost Warrior.__ The addition about the Mutant Wars, Clan Wars, as well as an assumption that Grune attempted to take control of the throne, a potentially fixed anointment trial, and an explanation as to why Mumm-Ra never used Grune are from the addled brain of this author. Cheers and Merry Christmas - RL_

_

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_

The Eye of a Hurricane: from University Corporation for Atmospheric Research (UCAR) - section on Windows to the Universe, hurricanes.

Jāhānnāma  - Bengali origin; transliterated into English. Literally means: to condemn to hell. Used to mean damn it in Tigris (from: Samsad Bengali-English dictionary.)

Kutar baicha – Bengali origin, translated to English. Used as a Tigris swearing, means son of a bitch (from Insultmonger)

mavi – Swahili origin = damn, shit from (from Insultmonger)

Jabari – Swahili origin used as an Acinonyx curse/plea means Allah, god, supreme ruler (from online translator of Swahili to English)

* As always mistakes in translation to English belong to this author.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Squall Line**

* * *

_A squall line is a line of severe thunderstorms that can form along and/or ahead of a cold front. It can produce heavy precipitation, hail, frequent lightning, strong straight-line winds, and possibly tornadoes and waterspouts._

* * *

I ran down the halls of Cat's Lair as if my life depended upon it. Well, it did, sort of, not my life but most likely the life of my sister. As I descended the main staircase, taking a step for every third stair, I could hear the sounds of others following me. I didn't stop even though I could clearly hear Bengali demanding that I do so.

Stopping was not an option. What would stopping do? At least, I was doing something, willing to make a decision, take a course of action. Talking and strategizing would only make matters worse, take too much time, and change nothing.

Spurring me to run faster, the scenes of the missing ThunderCats replayed in a waking nightmare fashion. The images hadn't made a lot of sense. Was that really my sister kissing Panthro? No, it had to be something, someone else. She would never have a romantic interest in the panther. He was at least twice her age and had been a parental figure in our lives ever since Mom... No, I wouldn't think about that now.

Sensing motion, the main door opened, and I ran down the several, steep stairs leading to the drawbridge platform. My brain finally caught up with my feet, and I realized that running to my sister's aid would take too much time, time I didn't have. At the foot of the steps, a shining glint caught the corner of my eye. I smiled. For once, my forgetting to put things back where they belonged would actually benefit me.

As I was in the process of jumping onto the space board that I had used when Kit and I had helped to put the strands of lights in the trees of the memorial gardens, a firm hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me off.

"Let go!" I kicked out in anger.

The owner of the hand had to release me in order to avoid my feet. However, Bengali recovered faster than I did, and before I knew it, I was in a full-body hold, twisted so that my back was now against the tiger's chest and my arms pinned in a semblance of a self-body hug.

"Stop!"

I debated for a moment whether I would obey, but the tight hold pretty much made it a moot decision. I allowed my body to sag in compliance.

Bengali's grip remained firm on my body. He turned us both around so that we could face Lynx-O, who was finishing his navigation of the stairs. "Kat, you must calm yourself."

It took all of my self-control to not snort derisively at the lynx's request, but that was all I managed to contain. "I can't just sit back and do nothing!"

"And, what would running off by yourself accomplish?"

Although the words were spoken kindly, I felt their weight just the same. I was usually the levelheaded twin, but with Kit unavailable, it appeared that I would take on both of our personas. "It would be doing something." Even I could hear the feebleness of the excuse.

"Yeah, most likely cause more problems for us."

Anger sparked, and I wiggled out of the white tiger's hold to whirl around and face him. "Would you sit here and do nothing while your sister was taken hostage by mutants?"

"I don't have a sister."

Bengali's words only helped to enrage me more, and I barely registered the feel of his jaw as my fist slammed into it. He was apparently more ready than I gave him credit, and he rolled with the punch. Remaining on his feet, he rubbed at where I had connected with his face. "Feel better?"

"Not even close," I growled, but the wind had definitely fallen from my sails.

Obviously, not wanting us to spar further, Lynx-O situated himself between us. He placed a hand against both Bengali's chest and mine. The touch was subtle, but I could still sense the restrained power hovering just below the surface of his fingers. "Fighting amongst ourselves will do the others no good."

My head dipped further in embarrassment. "Sorry, Bengali."

"I asked for it." Bengali worked his lower jaw back and forth and winced slightly before breaking into a half-grin. "Not bad. Maybe you are learning something from Panthro's sessions after all."

I ignored him. "Lynx-O, I can't just sit around here waiting for someone to do something. You saw what the sword…um…" I trailed off as my brain caught up with my mouth. Of course, he hadn't seen. _Stupid_, I berated myself silently.

Lynx-O only allowed the awkward moment to linger for a few seconds. "I felt what you saw. However, what I felt made little sense to me. The sensations were off, littered with noise."

"That sounds a lot like the images we saw." Bengali looked at me in a way that warned me to stay put. "We saw Lion-O, Panthro, and Cheetara held as prisoners, but the sequence was disorganized. At one point, it looked like Cheetara might be dying, Lion-O and Panthro too. Then Lion-O and Panthro are standing around talking like they hadn't a care in the world, and Wily Kit is either a prisoner of the mutants or getting it on with Panthro."

My hands curled at my sides, and I had to fight the urge to strike the white tiger again.

"Bengali!" Lynx-O's tone of voice held the warning that my fists itched to impart.

I watched the tiger look with contrition down at the ground. "Sorry. I tend to get flippant when I'm frustrated."

"You must be frustrated a lot," I murmured quietly.

Bengali lifted his gaze to meet mine. Although he and Lynx-O had heard me clearly, neither decided it was worth addressing. "Do you have a plan, Wily Kat?"

I looked around vainly, but as my silence grew longer, I knew that a stalling tactic only highlighted the truth. "No," I admitted finally.

Lynx-O nodded and turned to Bengali. "While I do not approve of your tactics, I do understand them. Thank you for getting Wily Kat calm enough to listen to reason."

My head snapped up, and I stared at the white tiger. I could hardly believe my ears. "You did that on purpose?"

Bengali's lips turned slightly upwards only to sour into a grimace. Gingerly, he rubbed his jaw again. "Guilty."

"Amazing. This whole time I thought you were just being a kutar baicha."

"Language, Kat, and watch what you say about my ma." The mirth in the tiger's voice overrode the severity of his comment.

"Looks like young Wily Kat has taken to the ancient Tigris language as well as he has to Panthro's fighting techniques." Lynx-O's voice held much less humor than Bengali's had. "Bengali, did you have a plan?"

Bengali's demeanor slipped back into serious mode. "We know Jaga insisted that the sword stay in the lair, but he said nothing about the lair's occupants. I say we go out and find out what happened to the others. It is obvious, no matter how disjointed the images were, that Lion-O, Panthro, Wily Kit, and Cheetara are in some kind of danger."

I warmed up to his idea immediately. "The sword didn't show us exactly where the others were, but I recognized the area where Kit and the mutants were. It is in the forest just before the Temple Ruins. As for the others, since Tygra located their signatures in the ruins, I'd hazard a guess that they are still close by maybe even inside one of the barely standing structures."

"That sounds like a reasonable deduction."

"Great, then let's go." I turned around to retrieve my board but was again delayed.

"Whoa, Kat, not so fast. We need to tell the others what we're going to do, and Lynx-O and I need to get some transportation as well. Unless you think you can handle three of us on that thing."

Panthro had warned us to never ride two to a board. I wondered briefly what he would say about three on one. My amusement died sharply with the memory of Kit and me battling a large, black shark with a spider's eight legs. Kit had been in trouble then too. Of course, if she had just listened to me to begin with, she, we, would never have been in trouble in the first place.

I shuddered as a particularly frightening image of Kit losing her space board and starting to fall into the waiting jaws of the shark came into blinding focus; the colors were saturated and almost psychedelic in their clarity. If I hadn't been there… "Do what you need to do."

Bengali withdrew his hammer and toggled a switch on the handle. "Bengali to Control Room."

A moment later, the clear voice of Snarfer answered, "Control, go ahead."

"Snarfer, patch me into Pumyra; she is in the main council room."

"You betcha, snarfer, snarfer. Connection established; Control out."

"Bengali, did you find Wily Kat?"

"Affirmative."

"Thank Jaga!" The relief in the puma's voice was evident even over the small speaker.

Bengali cast me a pointed look. I lowered my head in acknowledgement, and he continued, "Lynx-O, Kat, and I are going to recon the area near the Temple Ruins. Wily Kat thinks he knows the location where the sword showed Kit."

The pregnant pause on the communication line was finally broken by the voice of Tygra. "I don't suppose I can talk you out of this."

My eyes met Bengali's, and my head shook side to side in a singular, abrupt motion. He replied, "It's either we all go, or Wily Kat goes by himself."

"Understood. Be careful. We don't know what we are facing, and the sword has been ambiguous at best."

"Roger."

Bengali was about to terminate the connection when the voice of Pumyra broke through. "Make sure you and the others activate your tracking beacons. I'll monitor your progress in the control room."

"Will do."

"And, tiger, be careful."

Hard to hide with his pale coloring, Bengali's cheeks flamed scarlet, and he turned away from us to quickly finished his conversation with Pumyra in private. When he turned back to us, I noticed his cheeks had returned to their normal silver-gray color.

"All right, since Panthro hasn't hardwired the braille board into any of the vehicles yet, Lynx-O and I will piggyback in the ThunderClaw. Kat, you'll take your space board and scout up ahead. Hopefully, we'll encounter the others without the strange communication glitches we've been having. If we do loose audio contact, be sure to stay in visual range. We have four missing cats; that is more than enough."

While I waited for Lynx-O and Bengali to retrieve the ThunderClaw from the vehicle bay, I closed my eyes tightly and searched for the mental connection that Kit and I occasionally seemed to share. Even without the confirmation of contact, I concentrated and sent a thought-message. _Hold on, Kit; we're coming._

The dual engine whine of the ThunderClaw taking off reached my ears. Quickly, I mounted my board and headed in the direction where I instinctively knew Kit to be.

oooOOOOOooo

_Kat?_ The slight sensation of contact gave me the strength to pull free of the overall dampening effect shrouding my consciousness. Sound over amplified, light and color supersaturated, and aromas overpowering assaulted every sensory input. Had I been in control of my muscles, I would have crumbled into a ball in a vain attempt to physically block out the overload. The sheer impact of the colliding senses made me wish to retreat into the twilight from where my mind had slept, but instinctively, I knew if I did, control would not be won again. I would be lost.

Gradually, my senses settled to their normal levels, and I could process my environment into recognizable categories. Above me, sunlight filtered through a heavy canopy of trees. The angle of the rays showed that noon had since come and gone. The stench of released standing water accompanied by the sound of rushing rapids indicated that the River of Despair was somewhere close by me. Another scent crept into my olfactory periphery; I was not alone.

From the corner of my eye, I could see both Vultureman and S-Slithe sitting on their haunches next to me. Sunlight reflected from glass and metal covering the vulture's eyes, and he slowly turned his body to fully scan a field several meters to the east with his field glasses. The reptile remained stone-like. I could smell the putrid scent of old blood mixing with oozing infection; the heat of the air around us emphasized the stink. I cringed inwardly. A healthy S-Slithe was never a good thing; a sick and fever-deranged one was likely more deadly and unpredictable.

Almost ethereal, a soft chuckle flitted past my ears. _You are awake, little one._

Realizing the voice wasinternal not external, I froze, and I attempted to hide my awareness by making my mind blank.

_Come now, I know you are there. Should I convince birdie over there that you are interested in him too?_

_Why are you doing this? _I screamed, unleashing my fury in thought. Unbidden the image of a panther locked in a kiss with me sprang into my mind. The feel of his warm flesh, the hitch of his surprised breath, the salty tang of his blood, spilling into my mouth from a rough lover's bite, replayed not only in living color but also in slow motion, a derivative that was akin to torture.

_Now, now, I was there. You enjoyed it._

_I did not! _My denial of the taunt was swift, too swift. The laughter grew in volume and cadence.

Vultureman touched my shoulder. My body turned toward the mutant. I could see past the yellow of his eyes to his emotions. The creature was indeed smitten with desire. Revulsion made me shiver. Not noticing my disgust, the avian held out his pair of binoculars.

While one of my hands retrieved the proffered glasses, my other stroked the fine feathers of Vultureman's downy upper arm and threaded through the heavier plumage decorating his shoulder. I could feel the mutant tremble in pleasure at my touch.

My psyche was completely at odds with my actions, and the feeling of helplessness grew.

"Over the ridge, there are two incoming vehicles not of mutant design," the mutant said and pointed in the direction where I knew Cat's Lair to be.

I moved the glasses to my eyes. I could feel the heat of the vulture's skin still emanating from the lenses. Not only was my body rejecting me as host, but it was also overcompensating by making me supersensitive. My eyes focused on the two dust clouds approaching our destination. One was much lower than the other and glided along the surface like a ground vehicle. I recognized the signature immediately, and by virtue, the being controlling my body did as well. The other vehicle was much larger and traveled much higher in the air.

"A space board and the ThunderClaw or HoverCat." My voice announced for the mutants present.

My ears twitched as they caught the sound of another vehicle's rumble. Neither S-Slithe nor Vultureman reacted; their hearing was not nearly as keen as my own. I recognized the sound immediately, and my body turned, lifted the binoculars, and focused on the ThunderTank, rapidly making its way toward Cat's Lair opposite the direction of the approaching ThunderCats.

"Perfect." My voice trilled in delight. I handed the glasses back to Vultureman and pointed westward toward the approaching ThunderTank. My hand remained seductively helpful in its direction.

"They're loose!" he cawed. His excitement accentuated by an odd flapping of his appendages threw my hand from its uncomfortably close contact.

"Indeed." I felt the corners of my lips curl upward. I could only image that the smile I was sporting was anything but happy. It felt cruel and malicious.

I plucked the binoculars away from the avian and turned my attention back to the approaching vehicles from the east. Instead of scanning the terrain, my eyes looked skyward. Far on the flat horizon, where the Plains of Fertility extended, I could see the shape of a full moon beginning its evening rise. It was a couple of hours before sunset would claim the region, yet the large orb was still making an appearance.

The smile on my face grew. For some reason, my captor was immensely satisfied by the lunar event. I realized suddenly that while the being held my body captive and my will in check, it came at a price for her as well. I was becoming privy to some of her innermost thoughts just as she was to mine. I decided now, while she was distracted by the arrival of the ThunderCats, to press my newly discovered advantage.

_Why is the moon so important to you?_

I felt my body stiffen in anger. _It is none of your concern. _

_You need it!_ I realized and again felt the confirmation in my body as the being spun away from the mutants. _It gives you power, and you can't leave the ruins without it! _ The revelation suddenly put together some of the pieces of the disjointed jigsaw puzzle of events that had recently transpired.

Additional affirmation came in the form of a blinding headache. I recoiled in pain and had to push back further into my mind. _Watch yourself, little one._ The warning seemed to echo throughout my psyche and pulsed with each spasm of lancing pain. _You do not know with what you trifle!_

As quickly as the pain started, it disappeared. The abrupt disconnection of stimuli was in itself agonizing. Except for sight, I was suddenly cut off from all of my body's sensations. Even though the contact with Vultureman had filled me with disgust, the lack of any sensation filled me with dread. I suddenly went from an unwilling participant to a third party observer. It was as if I were watching the events transpire on a view screen in my mind.

"Come on, boys," the being said. "We've got work to do."

The comments made no sense to me, but in moments, we mounted Vultureman's Flying Machine and began flying to an intercept point midway to where the missing ThunderCats would meet up with their rescue team.

oooOOOOOooo

The tank jerked and jolted us as Panthro pushed it to its limits. The open canopy filled with wind as strong as a hurricane making landfall. I snuggled further against Lion-O trying to get some protection from the gusts that caused me to shiver as they blasted my fevered skin. I was so cold.

"Panthro, do you have an emergency med kit up here?" I could hear Lion-O's voice rumbling deeply in his chest, and he shifted both of us on the seat trying to afford me more protection, more heat.

"There should be one in the storage compartment, under the console, to your right."

Lion-O leaned over me, and I could feel him working the latch on the partition that Panthro had described. A light blanket covering my whole body soon replaced the somewhat uncomfortable sensation of being slightly squished, but strangely, I missed it. The fabric had a shielding on one side to prevent penetration of the elements, and soon I was pleasantly warm as Lion-O's body heat mingling with my own was reflected back to me.

"Lion-O, up ahead!"

"I see it, Panthro, but, what is it?"

I cracked my eyes open and immediately shut them again. The wind and bright afternoon light stung. I settled for using my ears instead.

"I'm not sure. Check the scanners; see if you can get a better view."

Lion-O once again shifted me so that he had full range of his upper body to man the control panel. I heard the slight click of keys as he typed. Lion-O laughed at something he must have seen on the screen. "Panthro, it's the cavalry, Wily Kat on his space board and the ThunderClaw."

"Gods be praised!" I didn't need eyes to know that the panther's face had split into a wide grin. I could almost feel the waves of relief flowing through the tank.

Lion-O adjusted the blanket at my shoulders. "Hold on just a little longer," he murmured against my temple. I had barely enough strength to nod my response back to him.

"Oh mavi!" The growl practically roared from the panther. "Evasive maneuvers!"

Lion-O had a second to brace us as the tank swerved, making a tight, ninety-degree turn. I heard the sound of gunfire strafing across the back of where the tank would have been. Something large flew overhead and briefly cast a dark shadow that blocked out the sun warming my face.

"Mutants!" Lion-O shouted. I could hear the keys of the computer clinking in rapid succession as Lion-O input commands. He was doing so one-handed. The other hand was occupied keeping the both of us from flying out of the cockpit. To avoid a direct hit from the volley of laser fire, spitting shards of earth around us, Panthro had to engage in some highly erratic driving patterns.

"Blast, I can't get the communications working." I heard the distinctive, audible crack of Panthro's fist impacting the steering wheel.

"Not to worry. The others can see we are in trouble. They are speeding up and headed on an intercept course. What the devil?"

I struggled to sit upright and see what had caused the incongruous statement. Pushing the blanket away from my face and ignoring my burning eyes, I could make out the shape of Vultureman's Flying Machine landing directly between where we and the other ThunderCats would meet.

"Why did they set down there? They're sitting ducks with both of us on either flank," Lion-O said.

"All the better," Panthro replied. He pushed a few buttons and the tank's front cannon sprang from the nose compartment where it was housed.

When I had first seen the weapon deployed, I had joked with Panthro telling him it looked like the tank was sticking its tongue out. He had replied, if that were the case, then the tank had one heck of a sharp tongue and packed one miserable loogie. Not only had the analogy been vulgar and gross, it had also been completely true. In seconds, he had coated a target with ice and then had shattered it with a concussion blast.

"Wait," I called out and barely recognized the sound of my voice. Luckily, it must have had enough staying power because Panthro didn't toggle the firing switch although I did see his trigger finger twitch reflexively.

Silently apologizing with my eyes to Lion-O for digging into his side, I pushed myself up on my elbow and pointed at the mutant vehicle. I saw my whole arm shaking with the effort of just gesturing to the machine but managed to push past my very visibly failing health. "Kit." I fell backward into the lion; my energy was completely spent.

"Panthro, she's right; Wily Kit is in the Flying Machine."

"Jāhānnāma!"

"My sentiments exactly," Lion-O answered. He shifted me again. "The others are still heading our way."

"And, we've got no way to warn them." The tank suddenly shuddered to a dead halt, all systems off-line. "Dang, blast it!" I heard Panthro attempt to restart the tank, but every effort he made was met by failure.

Lion-O took a harsh breath and let it out in a whispered curse. "Mavi!"

The sharpness in his tone, that one word, gave me the strength to try and open my eyes again. I blinked in the direction the lion was staring. My own gasp of horror reached my ears. Transfixed, I watched Kat's space board plummet to the ground. Weaving in a chaotic pattern, the ThunderClaw followed suit and crashed practically on top of where the space board had impacted.

Lion-O lifted me and hastily placed me on the seat that we had shared. "Stay here." He turned to Panthro.

"I got her," the panther agreed to the silent request.

"Since when did I become a thing to be watched over?"

Lion-O said nothing. He reached out a hand and gently touched my cheek almost as if saying a last goodbye. Then he jumped from the tank and began running in the direction of the smoldering crash site.

Tangled in the blanket, I struggled to get up only to be stopped by a pair of powerful, grey-almost blue hands. "Cheetara, you're in no condition…"

"To help?" I managed to get myself into a seated position despite his efforts to keep me prone. The world blurred for a moment, but desperate to stay conscious, I held on. "I may not be, but you are."

A look of indecision passed across his face, and I pressed on. "I'm in your ThunderTank. What could happen to me?"

"Stubborn female."

"You forgot smart and beautiful too."

"No, I didn't." Panthro leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss across my forehead. "Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for. Go. He needs your help getting past the mutants to help the others."

The panther started from the tank but stopped to turn around to look at me. "You're sure?"

I nodded and swallowed hard. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold the urge to cough at bay. I knew as soon as I allowed it out, I would be retching. In that event, there would be no convincing him to leave. Not that his staying would change anything.

"Go." I waved him toward the scene of the crash. This time he turned away and did not look back.

The urge to clear my lungs could no longer be denied, and I fell forward only stopping a complete collapse to the floor by bracing my arms across the console. The coughing brought forth nausea that in turn brought forth vomit. Bright red blood dribbled with bile onto the floorboards and onto my lap as I desperately tried to gain precious air by emptying the fluids collecting in my chest.

I pushed myself backward forcing myself upright so I might be able to get more air into my lungs. I choked on the remnants of sputum still partially blocking my windpipe. Coughing again, I spit out the vile substance and swiped a hand across my lips. My hand shook violently as I stared at the droplets of blood clinging to my fingers.

_Jabari, please_, I prayed silently and leaned forward until my forehead rested on my arms, which were crossed and on top of the dashboard. Between the laser blast and the thundrainium laced handcuffs, I was in dire straits. Had it been one or the other, I might have had better odds, but that had not been the case.

The laser bolt had only glanced my temple and shoulder, but the shot had allowed the thundranium direct access to my blood, weakening me and making me ill in seconds. Vultureman really hadn't needed to subdue me further with the restraints, and in fact, he had exacerbated my condition from mild exposure to severe. The amount of thundranium that had been in the cuffs had been enough to bring down both Panthro and Lion-O. In my compromised state, it had led to hours shorn off of my ability to recuperate, to function, until help could arrive.

I felt a familiar tightening of muscles along the back of my neck directly under my skull. The hackles of fur running along the sides of my neck and down my spine stood and vibrated. _No, _I begged in silent protest, _not now…_

Color spiraled like a black hole accretion disk from the brightness of light to the blackness of oblivion. There was a deafening roar in my ears. Pain tore through every fiber of my being as if the molecules were unhappy where they were and decided to arrange themselves to their own order.

The chaos broke to nothingness, whiteness without form, and then settled into a hazy, obscured view. It was like I was opening my eyes to a new dawn and only needed to pull back the gauze of curtains blocking a window to see clearly.

Muffled sound settled to the background din of a busy market place. I could hear children playing games and adults bartering for various wares: from meats, fruits, and vegetables to artisan crafts and jewelry. As the noise became differentiated, my sight became clearer, matching the sound to vision.

I was in the middle of a large square. It was crowded with all kinds of humans: from the old to the very young, males and females, skin colors ranging from palest cream to dark olive-brown. They were gathering for something important. I could almost feel the excitement in the air, a sense of celebration.

An icy breeze tore through my body, and I looked down as a child ran past me – no, not past me, through me. My body was completely transparent as if I were only there in spirit. Perhaps, I was. My sixth sense was unpredictable during its manifestations, but this, by far, was the most potent of such episodes.

Not willing to have the horrible feeling of something passing through me again, I made my way to a large fountain set in the epicenter of the commerce stalls surrounding the square. I would use that structure as a shield. I was careful not to touch the citizens, which were now assembling into a thick throng that was barely maneuverable. Finding safety in the fountain, I now had the time to take in my surroundings.

Large structures built from some kind of stone surrounded the square. They were magnificent in architectural detail as well as the artistry of what might be pictorial history. Along the roof lines of the massive buildings were scenes of a life about which I knew nothing: a pyramid on fire, two figures embracing wearing suns for crowns, water and trees, human forms paying homage to the crowned figures, engaging in what appeared to be celebrations of past events.

The language spoken around me was undecipherable, a dialect I had never heard, but the squeals of delight from younglings playing and splashing in the very fountain where I hid and the calls of excitement from adults made it clear that I was about to view something which was grand for these people maybe even worthy of historic representation on the building that looked to be under construction. In an attempt to garner a better view, I worked my way around to the front of the fountain. Reaching my destination, I looked up to appreciate the artistry of such a fine monument. A gasp escaped my lips as I looked up into the face of a lioness. Every detail was finely sculpted even the Leo markings were perfectly accentuated by a stone glowing with an alabaster sheen.

Unable to make sense of what I was seeing, my eyes flitted back and forth: from the huge white buildings not of Thunderian design, to the people who were most definitely human, to the statue showing a proud lioness obviously from Thundera. She wore a gown made of what appeared to be metal that had patinated to verdigris. There was barely any of the original copper color showing through the green. Her feet were bare and held the fine details of claws extended almost as if she were grabbing the base of the fountain with her toes. Her arms were outstretched in a gesture of benevolence. At the base of her wrists were small holes that allowed water to pour out, creating two cascading streams that flowed into the large basin supporting the entire structure.

_Where in the infinite cosmos am I?_

My time for speculation ended. A roar of approval rang through the crowd, applause and clapping echoing off the buildings surrounding me and refracting back in deafening proportions. The children playing in the fountain ceased their activities and joined in the fervor.

High above the square stood the largest building with multiple levels of stairs switch backing up the face. At the top was a flat area where I could see the movements of two figures approaching the front of the dais.

_By the Ancients! _I breathed in recognition.

One of the figures was male. He appeared to be of Leo lineage. His broad chest was bare sans a sash of brilliant orange resting across one shoulder. His lower half was adorned with a loincloth flashing brilliantly in the sun. On his head was a headdress that appeared to be made of long feathers that had been dipped in gold.

The other figure approached and took a position at the male's right. This figure was definitely female and also appeared to be of Leo descent. She was adorned in a sleeveless gown that also appeared to be made of fine gold. The sun above cast a brilliant reflection making it appear as if she were the source of light and not the other way around. On her head was a crown holding a circular disk encircled by a serpent. She had jewelry in her ears, across her upper arms, around her wrists, and adorning her bare feet. While the settings were gold, the brilliance and depth of greenish-blue gem stones were what drew my attention. They were the color of the sea, and they matched the lioness's eyes.

The male lion drew his hands above his head, and the crowd fell silent. At first, I could not understand the words he spoke. The language tickled the back of my brain as if it were familiar yet not.

I concentrated on the inflections that seemed so recognizable, and as if by magic, I was suddenly able to understand. At first, I caught every third word, then every other, and finally every word. It seemed to be an odd mixture of ancient Thunderian and another dialect – similar yet not.

"…Citizens of Heliopolis, I present to you, your goddess, your Tefnut."

The crowd went wild with joyful screaming and repetitive chanting of the revered name. The lioness responded by moving forward, stepping in front of the lion, and taking center stage. She raised her hands high above her head, and a blue-green light seemed to take residence in her hands. Behind her, clouds grew dark and heavy. There was a change in the scent of the air from crispness to electrified ozone. Rain began to fall and pelt the awaiting crowd with large, wet drops. No one made a sound or complaint; it was as if they as a whole had taken and held a deep breath in anticipation.

The male moved to stand next to the lioness and held up his hand, engulfing one of hers with gentle orange light. The rain immediately subsided. The scent of the air changed, turned pure, and bore the definite scent of petrichor. Above the linked hands spread a double bowed rainbow, colors vivid and supersaturated. The crowd again cried out joyfully, and several of the inhabitants fell to their knees in homage.

After a few minutes, the lion again addressed the mass of humans standing below. "Today, we become three. Today, my sister, Tefnut, weds."

The crowd again celebrated the news with wild abandon. Instruments began playing, and the people danced. White flower petals filled the square. They fell gracefully like snowflakes, billowing in drifts and valleys from the activities of the people.

"Today, I bestow my blessing," the lion began, and another anticipatory hush fell over the human gathering. "Tefnut, I present you with your betrothed, Grune the Mighty."

The sabertooth, who had been in the back of the platform, out of view, strutted to the center of the stage. My gasp of surprise mirrored that of the people of the arena where I stood.

He looked exactly as I remembered: full body armor wrapped his torso and shoulders; a warrior's helmet encased the top of his long brown mane; a scale metal and leather loincloth covered Thunderian nobel stockings. The only noteworthy difference was that this Grune had both of his saber teeth.

Grune opened his arm wide in welcome and hugged the lion, his large arms easily encircling the girth of the other male's waist. A strange, reddish glow appeared to radiate from the embracing males. When Grune released the lion, the other male fell to his knees and then prostrate to the ground.

"Shu!" the crowd called out in horror.

A loud, mirthless laugh rumbled from the platform. Grune turned and faced Tefnut. "There has been a change in plans, my beloved. I have decided that I will not rule by your side. Instead, I will rule alone, and you shall serve me!"

Even from far below, I could see Tefnut's eyes light with an eerie, aquamarine glow. Rage exuded from her. "How dare you!"

"How dare I?" Grune mocked her in a repeat of her words. "Dearest Kefeira, you have forgotten who you are. You are not a goddess; you are merely a sorceress, a water witch. I am a warrior; I am fit to lead."

"Warrior or no, you shall bear no claim to my brother's throne."

"I already have. He is as weak as a kitten."

"Shu?" Tefnut called out. "Kefir?"

The lion lay motionless on the ground where he had fallen after Grune had embraced him. Anger sparkled in the lioness's eyes, bright green-blue light sprung to her hands, and she threw the amassed energy like bolts of lightning at the still smirking sabertooth.

Grune's reflexes were quick. He deflected the magic easily with a large mace. The bolts struck the ground where we stood. Several humans fell, killed instantly by the blasts. Screams rang through the crowd, and the remaining humans scattered.

I felt the tearing pain as children ran through me, seeking cover, safety, by the fountain. They huddled in fear, and I could offer them no solace. Mesmerized, I watched the battle between the lioness and the saber continue.

Grune laughed again as Tefnut gatherer her strength for another offense. Before the lights of her energy could even coalesce, Grune held out his mace like a totem. As soon as he did, Tefnut fell to her knees, her magic deserting her.

"I've discovered fire rocks," Grune taunted and pulled the lioness to him. "You remember them, don't you? After all, you and Shu forbid the mining of them. I wonder why. Is it perhaps because they are your weakness? They make you as powerless as those lowly humans that served you?"

Tefnut struggled against the saber, but she was no match for the larger cat's strength. "Careful, my pet, you may make me change my mind. I can easily let your fate be that of your brother."

His words only stoked the fury of the lioness. In an instance of pure rage, she struck out. Her hand encircled in what was left of her power grabbed his right saber tooth and yanked it out. The howl of pain and rage from Grune echoed over the buildings and pooled in the square.

With one move, he grabbed his mace and slammed it into the side of the lioness's head. Tefnut crumpled to the ground beside her brother. Grune's broken tooth fell from her limp hand.

Lightning flooded the area around the two bodies and knocked Grune from the platform. He rolled with the impact of his body against the stairs and managed to stop his downward momentum on the second landing of the switchback. Struggling to his feet, he glared at the throng of terrified humans below him. An evil smile crossed his features.

"Run," he commanded the crowd. "Run and tell all you encounter that Grune the Mighty has come to Heliopolis. Grune the Warrior shall be your god now!"

Not a single person moved.

In moments, the saber made his way to the square. "Did you not hear me? I said, run." He brought his mace down on the fountain where I stood. The entire fixture shuddered. There was a moment of quiet; then small fissures opened along the basin, spilling the water to the cobbled pavers. A rending of metal and stone soon followed as the statue of Tefnut cracked and tumbled to the ground.

The children near me scurried away in multiple directions. Grune was not appeased. In deranged fury, he pushed through me to destroy the stalls of the market to satiate his anger, his hate, his glory.

As his mace slid through me, I felt indescribable pain. In that moment, I knew. I knew it all.

TBC

* * *

_Sources:_

Squall Line: from wikipedia squall line

Kutar baicha* – Bengali origin, translated to English. Used as a Tigris swearing, means son of a bitch (online from insultmonger)

Jāhānnāma*  - Bengali origin; transliterated into English. Literally means: to condemn to hell. Used to mean "Damn it" in Tigris (from: Samsad Bengali-English dictionary.)

Tefnut and Shu – The Gods of Heliopolis. (online from Egyptian Tours)

Kefiera – Hebrew origin – female – young lion(ess)

Kefir – Hebrew origin – male – young lion.

*As always, inaccurate translation is the fault of this author. I don't speak Bengali or Swahili, but I do endeavor to find correct translations.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**F6 Tornado**

* * *

_Because the size of a tornado is not necessarily an indication of its intensity, (Large tornadoes can be weak, and small tornadoes can be violent.) a scale, the Fujita Scale (F0-F6), was derived to classify and rate tornadic intensity based on wind speed and damage. An F6 classification, listed as inconceivable on the Fujita Scale, has wind speeds from 319 – 379 mph. However, it is unlikely that a storm will ever reach this classification because the small area of damage F6 winds might produce would probably not be recognizable from the destruction caused by the F4 and F5 winds that would surround it._

* * *

I ran as fast as I could to the smoking rubble of what had once been the ThunderClaw and to where I had last seen Wily Kat's space board. I was halfway to my destination when a large, green mass suddenly blocked my path. I stopped short to avoid crashing into it.

"S-Slithe," I called out and surveyed one of my oldest enemies.

He did not look well. His gaze was vacant, and nictitating membranes completely covered both of his usual jaundiced-colored eyes. His whole face was mottled in various hues of yellows and browns with just enough of his normal green complexion remaining to accentuate the bruising. There were pronounced bite marks, deep punctures as if by fangs, swelling his lower lip to twice its normal size.

Slicing deeply halfway down his side and across his abdomen was a gash oozing a milky white substance. The odor of infection coming from the lizard was even stronger than the smoke starting to settle over the area where we faced a stalemate.

My eyes focused on his hands that were slowly passing his trademark Sagaris back and forth. Covered in some sort of clear scales, long cuts ripped down each wrist and tracked deep into the muscles of his forearms. Their pattern matched what my claws could do if my hands were much smaller.

_Mavi, Cheetara, what did you do?_

When she had gone after the leader of the mutants, I knew she had been out of her mind with grief-infused rage, but I had hoped that her oath would still overrule her need for vengeance. Given the damage to the reptile's body, I had obviously been mistaken. I guess that I should be relieved that the mutant was still breathing.

S-Slithe and I circled each other. My goal was to get the mutant to move far enough to one side so that I could reach the crash site. Usually, I could keep the reptile talking, distracted, but he was silent. I could only hear the sound of his breathing, which wasn't sounding so great at the moment either.

"What's the matter, S-Slithe? Cat got your tongue? It certainly looks like Cheetara might have gotten a piece of it."

S-Slithe darted forward and with precision swung his axe at me. I lurched backward to avoid the deadly blade. Even though he might be severely injured, the reptile showed no sign of weakness from it. I had barely recovered my footing before I had to dodge another swing.

My defensive maneuvers were pushing me further from my objective. I needed to do something to get the mutant to move in the other direction, and by the strong smell of thundrillium fumes, I had better do it quickly.

"I've got this, Lion-O." A large blue-grey hand clamped on S-Slithe's shoulder and spun the mutant around. "C'mere, reptilian, you and I have a few things to discuss."

In quick succession, two jabs and a right hook slammed into S-Slithe's solar plexus. The mutant grunted but some how managed to remain standing and in control of his hand weapon. However, his attention was now fixed squarely on the panther.

My gaze flitted to the ThunderTank. I had asked Panthro to stay with Cheetara. However, I knew how persuasive she could be. She no doubt had said or done something to convince him to leave her behind, so he could help the others and me. I saw no movement from within the machine, and I wondered whether that was a good thing or not.

"Hurry, Lion-O!" Panthro's words spurred me back to the present. It was obvious that his encouragement had more to do with the smell of leaking fuel rather than worry for himself as he faced off against S-Slithe.

I turned and again began running toward the destroyed vehicles. Time was of the essence. If I didn't get to the crash location, it was likely that there wouldn't be a site left at all. I had just reached the same spot I had been when S-Slithe had made his appearance only to be blocked once again. This time the stopping force was in the form of a blaster. I had to shimmy out of the way in order to avoid being hit by a salvo of shots.

"Caw, hold still you overgrown cub!"

From where the rounds had impacted the ground, a haze of reddish smoke wafted over me. The unwelcome acidic taste of thundranium burned across the roof of my mouth. My limbs suddenly felt heavy, too heavy to move, and I sagged to my knees.

"That's better. Say goodnight, Lion-O."

I looked up into the barrel of the blaster held securely in Vultureman's talon-tipped hands. The same blaster that had shot Cheetara held by the same creature who had then poisoned her further with thundranium-laced shackles. Images and emotions flashed through my mind: Cheetara not moving in our cell; my desperation to remove the manacles that were killing the both of us; the feel of the cheetah as she pressed her lips, her body, to mine; Panthro's bloodied hands as he slammed them again and again into our prison wall; Cheetara's pale face as she coughed up blood while struggling to breathe. All were due to this creature who now dared to point a blaster at me while I tried to aid the fallen ThunderCats mere meters away!

Like a cloak, I gathered my fury around me, and gaining strength born from dark emotions, I rose to my feet.

"Stay down!" Vultureman's command was accompanied by a scattering of several more shots nowhere close to my body.

"You couldn't hit the west side of the Lair with your hands shaking like that. Here, let me help you." Closing the gap between us, I took a step forward and growled for effect as well as from effort. I could feel the thundranium pulling at me, darkening the field of my vision, but I refused to allow the mutant to know how precarious my grip on consciousness was.

If Vultureman's hands had been shaking before, they were vibrating now. "I said stay down!" He hefted the blaster further and prepared to fire again.

I ducked, but nothing happened: no thundranium poisoning burst; no fur singeing heat; no sound at all. Still wondering how the vulture had managed to avoid a direct hit, especially at this close range, I looked to where the mutant had been standing. Ice crystals coating Vultureman's shoulder, arm, hand, and finger, still in the process of pulling the trigger, winked in the late afternoon light.

I glanced behind me and half-expected to see Cheetara on the back turret of the ThunderTank, but the tank was silent. There was no sign of the spotted one.

"It is forbidden!" screamed Wily Kit from her observation position still within the cockpit of the Flying Machine. A strange blue-green light pulsed from her hands.

Even though I knew better than to take my good fortune for granted, I still used it to my advantage. The weight from the ice made the vulture lean into me, and I intercepted him. I heard a satisfying, bone-shattering crunch as my fist made contact with the delicate joint holding his two mandibles together.

Vultureman fell backwards, flat on the ground. Cowering at my feet, he rolled to his side, and grabbed his jaw with his unfrozen hand. My fists itched to pummel the mutant further, but I managed to hold myself back by silently reciting the Code of Thundera as my mantra. If I hadn't, I wasn't sure that I could have stopped myself until the avian was no more than a puddle of feathers and gore on the ground at my feet. He was lucky that I had only broken his beak.

Wasting no more time, I made my way to the downed ThunderCat vehicles. The stench of fumes from fuel spilling onto the ground was overpowering. Since there was no sign of Wily Kat or his space board, I had no choice but to start with the rubble that had been the ThunderClaw. Somehow, the two mechanical claws – usually set up as wings to aid with navigation and capable of being used in tandem as an extraction clamp – had completely inverted and now resembled a teepee that canopied over what had been the seating and controls for the vehicle.

I managed to get both of my hands into the fissure where the two wings met at their reversed angles. I heard a screech of metal on metal, and the claw flap on which I was working slowly began to give way. I jumped into the air and used the leverage of my full body weight to move the partition further down. On my third try, the gap was large enough for me to squeeze my big frame into what had been transformed into an enclosed cockpit.

"Bengali!"

The white tiger was listing to his left side, head lolling forward. Blood covered his face; streaked down his exposed temple; trickled across the bridge of his nose; and dripped onto the control board that was covering his legs, keeping him, more or less, vertical in the seat.

I quickly ran my hands down his legs. I was no healer, but I knew how to check for broken bones. There was a small gap between the compressed console and his body, so he wasn't completely pinned, just secured. The long bones appeared to be intact, and since there was room to disentangle him from the instrument panel, I was hopeful that there were no crushing or internal injuries to his legs.

As he regained consciousness, Bengali began to move. A low guttural growl accompanied his attempt to sit further upright. He raised his right hand to his head and hissed sharply upon making contact with it.

"Easy," I warned.

Unfocused blue eyes looked up into my face. "Lord Lion-O?"

"Who else has a flaming red mane?"

Bengali's lips started to twitch into a smile but faltered into a grimace instead. "Don't joke. I'm not sure I can handle laughing right now."

"At least, your sense of humor is still intact."

"I'm not sure Pumyra would think that is a good thing. Where's Lynx-O?"

"Working on locating him now. Stay put!"

"As if I could go anywhere," the tiger muttered and moved his hands down to his thighs. "There is room here, I'm not completely pinned. My legs hurt like a Plundarian khānaki on a busy night, but they aren't broken. At least, I don't think they are. Can't get a good feel of my lower legs and ankles in this jāhānnāma position. Oh, and did I mention that my head hurts like a kutar baicha?"

Bengali's use of vulgarity indicated his level of pain. I had noticed that the pupils of his eyes had been different sizes when he had come to. "You probably have a concussion. Stop moving around, so I can find Lynx-O!"

I heard further muttering, a string of Tigris words, probably the cursing variety and probably about me, but the white tiger stilled. I finally worked my way behind Bengali and into a small compartment created by the other inverted claw. It was completely devoid of light, and I couldn't see. I would have to rely on touch and sound. The irony of looking for a blind Thunderian without being able to use my own eyes was not lost on me.

I heard shallow panting and carefully reached out my hand until I came in contact with something warm and wet. "Mavi," I growled, knowing by feel that my hand was coated in blood.

"Lion-O!"

I ignored Bengali and moved my other hand up to where I thought Lynx-O's head should be. I brushed through his beard and felt around the top of his balding head, from one ear to the other, front to back. I came away dry. The lynx's only palpable injury was on his torso. From his difficult breathing, I feared that it might be impacting one or both of his lungs.

I felt the crippled aircraft shudder and turned my attention to Bengali. The white tiger was struggling to free himself from his chair. "By the great jabari, Bengali, sit still or so help me I'm going to pin you to your seat myself!"

"Tell me what's going on!" he demanded, but the motion of the ship stopped.

"Lynx-O is hurt. I can't tell how badly in this poor lighting. He's bleeding from his chest, and he isn't conscious." I scooted back into the main compartment and started to look for something I could use to wrap around the wound that was still bleeding profusely.

"What do you need?" Bengali craned his neck to see what I was doing.

"I need something I can use for bandages." I looked down at my exposed torso. I had nothing left of my uniform that would be helpful.

"Here." I heard a tearing of fabric and caught the remnants of Bengali's sleeved tunic as he threw it at me. "Wait, you'll need this too." The tiger wiggled a bit and reached deep underneath the console. He bit back another string of Tigris curses and threw something else to me.

I looked at the thin, clear cylinder that was about a foot long. "What is this?"

"S-snap it in half and sh.-shake it." His words were starting to slur, and I saw him slump forward before he shook his head and pulled himself upright again.

I did as I was told. While the object looked like a small pole or maybe crowbar, it wasn't rigid. I felt a little pop when I flexed it. Immediately, a soft green light began to glow inside the tube. I shook it, and the glow grew brighter casting a pale green luminescence in the dark, cramped space. "You're probably going into shock, Bengali. I need you to stay with me; stay awake. Why don't you tell me about this glowing thing?"

"Pumrya found some…some…what do you call them? Oh yeah, lichens – that's right – in one of the caves near the Bridge of Light." Although the slur was gone, it was obvious that Bengali was still having difficulty; his thoughts seemed garbled.

"What did she do with them?" I prompted, gathered the items he had given me, and started back to Lynx-O. Although speaking out loud was for his benefit, I appreciated the conversation nonetheless.

"Well, obviously, she brought them back to the Lair."

"Obviously," I grunted as I squeezed further into the back of the new makeshift compartment.

"She told me she wanted to make a powerless flashlight. Powerless flashlight, silly puma, we aren't on the island anymore, you know. We have batteries."

"I know." I pushed the glowing stick into the small crevice where Lynx-O was. A dark green splotch had spread across the majority of the right side of his torso's uniform. I knew that under a full spectrum light, it would have fluoresced dark red, but the color did little to hide the severity of the wound. I ran my fingers carefully across the wet fabric and felt a sharp point protruding through his skin.

"I came up with the design using flexible, clear conduit that the Berbils had, in huge quantities, I might add."

I grunted noncommittal encouragement for Bengali to continue while I slid my other hand under the lynx's back. I felt sharp edges of a piece of metal debris slick with blood. It was awfully close to his spinal column and pierced through to the other side of his body at an angle that placed it near to his right lung.

"Tygra worked his chemistry magic. That tiger, I tell you, he can concoct the coolest experiments. Did you know he and the Kittens were working on stuff from Acid Lake? I'm not sure we should call them that. I mean neither one of them is really a kitten anymore. They're adolescents; maybe we should call them ThunderTeens."

"Focus, Bengali." I tried to remember what little first aid training I had. If I tried to remove the embedded object, I'd risk causing more damage, or worse, the lynx could quite possibly hemorrhage and bleed to death. I had to push past the memories that assaulted my eidetic vision, images of Cheetara bleeding out in the Cat's Head. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

"Yeah, all right, so Tygra blew the first experiment with the acid. He'd never admit it though. Instead, he'd call it, 'research.' All I can say is it was a good thing he was wearing protective gear, or he would have been as bald as Lynx-O. Hey, how's he doing?"

I looked up at the brief lucid statement from the tiger and lied, "He's going to be fine. I just need to get the bleeding under control before we can get you both out of here."

Even though we value honesty, there were times – extenuating circumstances – that required omission of facts. I knew that if I told Bengali the truth about his longtime friend's injuries, the tiger would have paid no heed to his own health and would have pulled himself from the wreckage to help me, most likely endangering them both.

"Ah good, what was I talking about?" I heard Bengali starting to move around again.

"Sit still! You were telling me about this glow stick." I ripped Bengali's uniform into strips and began wrapping them around both sides of the shrapnel piercing Lynx-O's midsection. I was trying to immobilize the jagged metal as well as stem the blood seeping from the wound. At least, the lynx's body was helping by beginning to clot around the object.

"Right, Pumyra found these, um – what do you call them? – oh yeah, lichens, in some caves near the Bridge of Light. Silly puma, she wanted to make some powerless flashlights. I mean we have batteries."

My head shot up as I heard the white tiger start to repeat himself. His rambling off on tangents had caused me concern, but the new repetition of things he had already told me had me worried on a completely different level. I needed to get them out of here and to Pumyra as quickly as possible.

"Ho, Lion-O!"

My head bowed in relief on hearing a familiar voice call from the pried entryway that I had created. "Panthro, thank Jaga, back here!"

The ship rocked as the panther's weight was added. His shadow blocked the light coming from the access portal, and he pulled himself through the hole.

"Ho, ho, Panthro," Bengali greeted and then burst into a fit of giggles.

I didn't need the glow stick to read the question on the panther's face regarding the odd statement. "Bengali hit his head; he has a concussion and has been deteriorating ever since he came to."

"Got it," Panthro replied, and I could see him move over to where the tiger was sitting.

"He's not pinned, just kind of buckled in. You think you can get him out of here and then help me with Lynx-O?" A rending of metal was my answer.

"Let's go, tiger," Panthro said and slid one of Bengali's arms around his neck to help stabilize his ascent from the chair. Bengali screamed once and then fell silent. The tiger would have fallen onto the floorboards had the panther not grabbed him around the waist and borne all of his weight.

"He's out."

I could hear the strain in Panthro's voice, and I thought back to the barred door that he had had to lift to get us out of the Temple Ruin prison. I suddenly realized that he had probably reinjured his ribs. "Can you manage getting him out of here?"

"The day I can't lift a measly tiger is the day I retire from the ThunderCats." With that, Panthro folded Bengali across his bare shoulder and bodily carried him from the ThunderClaw.

I wished that it would be that easy to pry Lynx-O from the disabled vehicle. I moved the glow stick around the bandages and made sure that I had stabilized the metal in the wound. Carefully, I log rolled the lynx to his side to make sure that his back was secured as well. Lynx-O grunted his discomfort, and I heard his breathing become more labored. I quickly deposited him back to his original position.

The craft shifted as Panthro again boarded. "We've got to move quickly, Lion-O. The fumes out here are thick, and I saw some electrical systems sparking in what's left of the engine compartment."

_Mavi, this wouldn't be easy even in the best of circumstances. _"There is a shard of metal going all the way through his body, Panthro. I tried to secure it to the bandages, but..."

"Scoop and grab. That's all we have time for." Panthro bent down and secured Lynx-O's legs, and I did my best to support his torso and head. Even though it was awkward, we managed to clear the craft.

In the air, there was a potent smell of thundrillium and other lubricants mixing with the distinct odor of ozone from charred electrical systems. We only managed to get a few meters before an explosion blew us to the ground.

oooooOOOooooo

Pumyra screamed as the full screen in front of us showed a fireball and then went blank. I grabbed her barely catching her around her slim waist as she launched herself toward the door.

"Let me go! Why didn't you let me go?" She slammed her clenched fists against my chest. Her show of violence quickly switched to despair, and she fell against me burying her head in the crook where my shoulder met my neck. I felt the hot track of her tears soaking through my uniform.

I still couldn't believe my eyes; I refused to.

One moment we were celebrating. Bengali had radioed that they had found the others – well, the others had found them – and they were heading on an intercept course to meet the ThunderTank, which given the speed it was going was on a mission to get to Cat's Lair faster than was physically possible. Then Vultureman's Flying Machine had appeared out of nowhere and attacked the tank. Inexplicably, that course of action had been abandoned and changed to the mutants landing the aircraft between the two sets of approaching ThunderCat vehicles.

Instead of flanking the downed mutant craft with the approaching ThunderTank, the ThunderClaw had suddenly veered into the space board's flight path, and then with no other warning, both vehicles had crashed to the ground as though they had experienced complete engine failure. Both Pumyra and I could only stare at the view screen and watch the catastrophe while it unfolded.

As soon as the crash registered on the scanners, Pumyra had been on the move. Cheetara was fast, but the puma was no slowpoke. I had had to manually override the control room door to keep her inside while I tried to convince her that we should monitor the situation before either of us ran off. Trying to find confirmation of survivors, she had frantically turned to the controls, but we could only zoom in so far before a hazy static would obscure the lens.

Now, we had just witnessed the complete destruction of the ThunderClaw, and there was no way to know for certain if anyone had gotten out in time. My own grief welled to the surface. I compensated by offering comfort to Pumyra. My arms encircled her shoulders, and I held her closely while she cried.

The strange sound of silence drew my attention. I suddenly realized what I hadn't heard. The sword had been silent the entire time we had been monitoring Bengali, Lynx-O, and Wily Kat. It hadn't even issuing a warning when the vehicles had slammed to the ground. Surely, it would have made a sound, growled, flashed a sign, done something, if the fiery explosion had caused the death of any of our fellow ThunderCats. It had when Kanu – I pushed that unpleasant memory away.

"Pumyra." I pulled the sobbing puma away from my chest and looked into her shining cinnamon eyes. Grief glistened brightly and was only emphasized by the tears coursing down her cheeks. "Let me use the sword."

A small plume of hope reflected in her eyes. Her breath hitched as she tried to gather herself, and she dashed her hands across her face in an attempt to dry the tears. I reached down and retrieved the sword from the scabbard attached to my thigh. "Sword of Omens, give me sight-beyond-sight."

I waited for the now familiar mind-touch, but it never came. I saw nothing. Dejected, I removed the Eye of Thundera from my temple. The faint hope that I had seen in Pumyra's eyes vanished.

"I'm going." She spoke it like a statement, but the undercurrent of emotion was a promise, a vow.

"So am I."

Pumyra stared up at me. "You can't."

"Sure, I can."

"But, the sword…"

"The sword can sit in the weapons' room for all I care!" I threw it across the room and watched it bounce off a wall and skitter to a stop on the floor.

"I will no longer have my hands tied by a warning given to me by a ghost who refuses to give me more than ambiguous references, half answers, or no answers at all!" By the gods, that felt good! I was tired of repressing my emotions, being the strong, silent one. I cared about the others just as much as anyone else, and it was about time I was allowed to show it, act upon it.

Pumyra walked over to where the sword lay, bent down, and picked it up. "You accepted the mantle, Tygra."

"Yes, I did."

"Would you then leave the Lair unprotected and the sword behind?"

"We've left the Lair in the care of the twins more times than I can count, and Snarf has handled the job solo before; plus, he has Snarfer. They will be fine.

"As for the sword, Jaga told me the sword could not leave the lair, Pumyra; he never said that I could not. By his own words, he said that the battle we would wage would be without the weapon. The title of Lord of the ThunderCats gives me the responsibility to protect the rest of the ThunderCats no matter the cost to me. Don't you think it is about time that I did so?"

"I'm not the one who needed convincing," she said and handed me the sword. "Put that in the weapons' room. I'm going to grab my med kit. I'll meet you at the HoverCat."

--------------

By the time I had made it to the vehicle bay, Pumyra was already in the HoverCat. There were three bags strapped across her body. I couldn't help but notice how much she resembled a Wollo merchant's rack. I raised my eyebrow and nodded to the bulging packages surrounding her.

"We don't know what we're going to be facing. I'd have brought the whole sickbay if I could pack it."

I settled in front of the puma and pulled the belt restraint tight across my lap. "Buckle up if you can manage underneath all those supplies. I'm going to pilot the craft close to the ground. I don't want whatever affected the other vehicles to catch us blind. If we have to crash to stop, I'd rather be only a few meters or so in the air."

"Agreed."

I engaged the engine and taxied from the hangar. In moments, we were headed to a scene that neither of us wanted to imagine.

oooooOOOooooo

I hauled myself to my feet and leaned heavily against a tree. My fall had been from a good twenty meters in the air, higher than I would have liked, but it had been survivable. I palpated my arm and bit back a harsh curse. It was broken all right. At least, it hadn't punctured the skin, but it still hurt like a kutar baicha.

Wow, Lynx-O was right, I really had picked up too many of the vulgarities of the Tigris language. When I got out of this mess, I was going to have to work on that.

I grabbed my lariat from my waist and fashioned a makeshift sling to help keep my broken arm as stationary as possible. My situation was bad, but it was certainly better than what it could have been. I looked to the black smoke pouring from the explosion where the ThunderClaw had crashed. I hoped that Lynx-O and Bengali had faired as well or better than I had – that they were nowhere near the vehicle when it had detonated. I had seen both Lion-O and Panthro go in, but the fire and smoke from the blast had made it impossible for me to see if they had gotten to safety in time.

I turned my attention to the Flying Machine. Kit stood on the engine compartment staring at the chaos that had once been ThunderCat machinery. I didn't understand why she just stood there. Why didn't she run? There were no mutants to hold her captive, and she didn't appear to be bound in any way.

Slowly, my sister raised her unfettered hands skyward. A strange sea-green light seemed to envelop her fingers. The glow grew brighter alternating intensity from sapphire to emerald. It hurt to look directly at it. Just when the light's concentration almost caused me to turn away, beams of the green-hued energy left her hands and shot into the sky.

A wind blew savagely through what had been a still glade. Where a clear and sunny afternoon had reigned, darkness gathered and began to blot out the sky. The unearthly, bruised clouds filtered the little light that still managed to shine through them and cast the area in nightmare shades of red, purple, green, and grey.

My sister jumped down from her Flying Machine perch and stood in front of two blobs that seemed to be cowering on the ground at her feet. It was hard to see details from my position, but I could swear the two masses looked like the mutants, S-Slithe and Vultureman. The wind blew from the direction of the figures, and I was able to hear snatches of what I could only classify as a diatribe.

Kit waved her hands expressively with the words that came to my ears. "…idiotic beasts…firerock …murderers…my sight…destroy you myself!"

Winds that seemed to emanate from her encircled the two forms on the ground and scooped them up into a dizzying spiral before plopping them into the Flying Machine. A much stronger wind swirled around the threesome. Even though she was in the epicenter of the tornado, Kit stayed grounded; the mutant vehicle was not so tethered.

As the winds grew fiercer, they created lift under the heavy machine's wings. The aircraft spun wildly into the air. Riding across the top layer of the centrifuge, it arced wider and wider gaining in velocity. Then, without warning, the cyclone vanished, and the mutant aircraft catapulted out of sight, through the thick clouds, on a vector that would put it in the general vicinity of Castle Plundarr.

Accompanying the disappearance of the mutants, heavy raindrops began to fall from the angry clouds. Although though the wind's rotation had dissipated, its speed had not. It blew as a straight-line, tossing the water droplets like javelins. I felt welts swelling where they impacted my skin.

A chorus of lightning and thunder seemed to encourage the violence. I ducked back against my tree hoping to afford myself some protection from the severe weather raging all around me. At least, the storm was doing some good; it had put out all of the embers that had ignited from the destroyed ThunderClaw There would be no worries about a grass fire burning out of control. It was also clearing the smoke, weighing it down, melting it into puddles.

The wind again seemed to take focus. This time its target was the empty ThunderTank. Just like the mutant vehicle that had preceded it, the tank was picked up. However, it was not flung off into the sky or even toward Cat's Lair; instead, it was deposited almost directly in front of my sister.

The rain changed its horizontal pattern and its tempo and began to fall in sheets that blurred my vision. I wiped my hands across my eyes trying to push past the rivers of water blinding me. I caught a glimpse of gold, cream, and some orange and realized that I had been mistaken about the tank being unoccupied. I watched the lifeless form of Cheetara float from the tank and hang in midair like a rag doll.

_Mavi, what in the name of the gods was Kit doing? Not Kit, can't be. She doesn't have the power to control the weather, and she definitely wouldn't do anything to hurt Cheetara or any of us._

I had to do something, and I pushed myself away from the minimal protection the small stand of trees gave me. The going was slower than I would have liked. While the waves of rain camouflaged my approach, the mud from the torrential downpour pulled at my legs. Yanking my right foot free for the third time in as many steps, I finally had had enough, and I stooped to remove my boots.

I was in the process of standing when Wily Kit turned and looked directly at me. I froze in mid-crouch. Then I heard what had drawn my sister's attention, a whine from an engine. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the headlights of what had to be the HoverCat floating only a few meters from the ground. I turned my attention back to Kit just in time to see an odd light flash from her eyes.

I followed the halo of blue-green light as it rippled from Kit, through me, and behind me. All lights from the hovercraft disappeared, and the steady sound of its engine was replaced by the swish of something large hydroplaning across vast amounts of wet earth. The noise grew exponentially closer, and I realized that I was in the path of the out-of-control vehicle.

Using the claws on both my hands and feet, I tried to scamper out of the way. A tidal wave of debris flew over me coating me in mud. I felt the heat of residual exhaust blow across my back just as the vehicle slid to a stop at the exact point where I had been standing. My breath came in gasping pants. That had been too close, and I knew if my feet had remained in their boots, I never would have gained the purchase I needed to avoid being flattened by the HoverCat.

I heard a string of muttered curses and the sound of two pair of feet sloshing down into the muck. "Pumyra! Tygra!" I had to shout to be heard over the crashing rain and the thunder accompanying it.

"Wily Kat?" Pumyra half slid and half ran to me. She threw her arms around me and then pushed me away quickly; as if it was just then her role as healer had returned, and she had to make sure I was uninjured. "Your arm."

"Yeah, I know." I dismissed her concern for me and pointed in the direction I knew the ThunderClaw had been. "The others need you more. Go that way, thirty meters to your west, near an outcropping of boulders. You'll find Lynx-O and Bengali there."

Pumyra only stared at me.

"Uccāra, puma, do as you're told! Lynx-O is fading fast, and Bengali lingers in his shadow!" I pushed Pumyra away from me with more force than was necessary, but she retained her footing. She looked hard at me one more time before complying with my orders.

I watched the puma's back as she hurriedly made her way to the destination I had given her. Tired, I slumped to one knee. I was stunned at myself. I had never spoken to an elder like that in my entire life, and I still wasn't sure how I knew where the others were nor how I knew that they needed medical attention – and what about Lion-O and Panthro?

"Kat?" I felt a hand on my shoulder and realized that Tygra had stayed behind. He was probably the only reason Pumyra had left in the first place.

"I'm fine." I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and stood. "Kit is over there." I pointed to where the blackest of the clouds met the ground.

We both started in the direction of the heart of the maelstrom. Rain poured over our already saturated bodies; lightning flashed like mini-glimpses of high noon, and thunder boomed so loudly it was felt as well as heard. Straight-line winds tore at our clothing, and more than once, we had to grab on to each other to keep from sliding backward, but with our focus remaining firm, we finally reached the seemingly impenetrable wall of clouds, blanketing the area where I had last seen my sister.

Tygra looked at me. I'm not sure why. I didn't have the slightest idea how we were going to get through to the other side. He was the scientist after all.

A cold touch that had nothing to do with the wind slid over my fur. _Child of Thundera, let me in._

I whirled around seeking the owner of the voice and found only more of the raging storm. "Did you hear that?"

"I only hear the roar of the storm. It seems even louder somehow." Even though we were only a whisker's breath apart, a dual peel of thunder, tumbling over itself, practically drowned out Tygra's words.

_Wily Kat, if we are to save our sister, let me in!_

Tygra made no indication that he had heard anything beyond the storm. I closed my eyes and felt for the coldness that seemed to accompany the voice that apparently was only in my head. Finding what I thought might be the echo of a psychic thread, I sent, _I don't understand. Who are you? What do you mean?_

_Let me in, and all will be revealed to you._

I still had no idea how to let whatever it was in nor was I sure that I wanted to. I felt numbness in the back of my skull, and my eyesight grayed.

_Do you wish to get to your sister, save her?_

I felt as though my brain were tearing in two. All I wanted to do was curl into a ball to block out the sensations, but I had lost the ability to use my muscles. I could do nothing but stare at the mass of black swirling in front of me.

_DO YOU WISH TO SAVE OUR SISTER?_

Tears that couldn't fall swam in my vision. _Yes! YES!_

The frigid touch pulsated through my entire brain, traveled down my spine, and shot to my extremities. There were no words that could describe the sensation. The closest analogy I could make was that it felt as if something had literally stepped into my skin. Slowly, my body warmed up and control returned to me, but I had the distinct impression that I was not alone.

_You must trust me. Give me control of this body._

I hesitated.

_Will you yield?_

I wasn't sure that I had much of a choice. Given my situation, I was pretty sure that control could easily be taken with or without my consent.

_It can, but I don't wish to do so. Fighting for control, creates friction, drains energy. If we are to save our sister, we must work together._

I knew at that moment I would do anything to help my sister even travel into the jaws of jahanum.

The voice sharing my body chuckled softly. _I have no interest in visiting such a place. My reward, as does yours, son of Kanu, awaits me in the great fields of mbinguni._

"Tygra, I have a way in," I announced to the tiger who was still examining the clouds trying to find some way through the storm. It sounded like me, no different than before.

"You're going to have to trust me; don't interrupt what I do, or all will be lost." Scratch that, I never would have used those words.

Tygra looked up at my cryptic statement, but rather than challenge me, he stepped aside. A soft orange glow began to shine on my hands, and I reached out and touched the clouds. The angry swirling mass sizzled with my touch as if any droplet that came in contact with me evaporated on impact. The field of orange extended around my body. With no instruction to Tygra, I felt his hand touch my back, and he too became surrounded by the aura. As one, we stepped through the clouds to the other side of the maelstrom.

The other side of the storm was vastly different from what we had left behind. It was tranquil – no rain, no wind, no sign of the tempest at all. In fact, I could see stars beginning to gleam in a darkening evening sky. Twilight was beginning to take hold. My eyes drifted to the east horizon. Just past the wall clouds protecting this area, I could see the cusp of a moon beginning to make its ascent. The moonrise increased my anxiety.

_Come, our time grows short. _

With no more prompting, I led Tygra to the area where I saw Kit standing. Everything was exactly where I remembered it to be, as if nothing had moved since the storm had begun. Well, not everything – both Lion-O and Panthro now stood before the ThunderTank and Kit.

"The sword, now!" Kit's eyes flashed emerald, and Cheetara, still suspended in the air, screamed.

"Please, Kit," Lion-O begged, his voice was raspy with desperation. "I told you I can't."

"I've seen you command the weapon before." With a twitch of Kit's hand, the cheetah screamed again. "Call it, or must I break every bone in her body?"

Lion-O lunged at my sister, but Panthro intercepted him. Tygra and I used the distraction to crouch behind the tank unnoticed.

"I grow tired of this. How much longer do you think she will survive?"

Beside me, I felt Tygra begin to rise. I grabbed his arm and shook my head. If Kit were to know he was here – the current commander of the sword – all would be lost. Cheetara screamed again, and it was all I could do to push the tiger down.

"Ah ha, the striped second-in-command, you care for her. You shall get me what I want!" The tank where we hid suddenly flew into the air. It hit the wall of clouds and disappeared into the storm beyond us.

"Enough, Kefiera!" I stood and pushed between my sister and Tygra.

Wily Kit's green eyes widened with recognition as she looked at me. She released her telekinetic grip on Cheetara who fell to the ground in a boneless heap. Both Lion-O and Tygra ran to the fallen cheetah, but Kit's eyes remained locked on my own.

"Kefir?"

_--TBC--_

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_A/N. Special thanks to my reviewers, and for all you lurkers, I do hope that you are enjoying the twists and turns in this story. It is coming to a close – probably have a couple of chapters or so left. - Regards, RL._

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**Sources/Terms:**

F6 Tornado - The Tornado Project Online. St. Johnsbury, Vermont, 1999. _The Fujita Scale. _Reasearched on the worldwide web, February 2, 2009.

mavi – Swahili origin = damn, shit (online from insultmonger)

khānaki - Bengali origin; transliterated into English to be the Tigris word for whore, prostitute, harlot. (online: Samsad Bengali-English dictionary)

Jāhānnāma  - Bengali origin; transliterated into English. Literally means: to condemn to hell. Used to mean damn it – or damned – in Tigris (online: Samsad Bengali-English dictionary)

Kutar baicha – Bengali origin, translated to English. Used as a Tigris swearing, means son of a bitch from (online from insultmonger)

Uccāra – Bengali origin – means excrement – Tigris vulgarity translation, shit (online: Samsad Bengali-English dictionary)

Kanu – Wily Kit and Kat's father. Swahili orgin – small wildcat, genet - (found online at The Kamusi Project)

jahanum - Swahili origin – hell –(found online at The Kamusi Project)

mbinguni - Swahili origin – (religious) heaven –(found online at The Kamusi Project)

Kefiera – Hebrew origin – female – young lion(ess)

Kefir – Hebrew origin – male – young lion.


	10. Chapter 10

_Cases involving either slow-moving thunderstorms or a series of storms, which move repeatedly across the same area (sometimes called train-echo storms), frequently result in flash flooding. The total number of flash flood deaths has exceeded tornado fatalities during the last several decades._

**Chapter 10**

**Flash Flood**

I tasted dirt. Twisting my head to the side, I spit out the grit and slowly shook my head. With my forearms braced against the very ground I had just eaten, I pushed myself onto my elbows and took stock of my body. My ribs protested, but that wasn't anything new. They had been screaming their discontent since I had pried the bar from the door at the Temple Ruins. My fists and lip still hurt as well additional souvenirs from our imprisonment. There were numerous spots on my back that stung probably from pieces of the ThunderClaw as they flew across me on their way to oblivion. My knees and one palm felt the same; I had earned those scrapes when I made my way to the ground after being tackled by the explosion.

There was no sound just an odd ringing in my ears. Carefully, I shifted backward keeping my weight off of Lynx-O. On my trip to the ground, I had positioned myself as a feline shield over the injured lynx. I looked down at my exposed chest. Never thought I'd be glad to be weaponless, but I thanked the gods that I didn't have my spiked bandoliers; otherwise, I would have probably finished the job.

I settled to sit on my knees and looked over my shoulder at the destruction behind me. There was only a blackened depression, a hole filled with smoke wafting into the air, where the ThunderCat vehicle had been. Smoldering and threatening to create their own miniature fires, bits and pieces of charred, superheated metal were all around me.

I glanced at Lion-O who had also curled himself protectively around Lynx-O. His back was riddled with scratches and scrapes, again confirming my thoughts on my own body. I reached out and shook his shoulder. "Lion-O?" My voice sounded far away, and I called out again, "Lion-O!"

The big lion slowly raised his head mimicking the same gestures I had when I had first moved from my protective stance over our fallen companion. He looked at me and said something, but I couldn't understand him. I shook my head trying to open my ears. His lips moved again, but I still couldn't comprehend.

"I can't hear you," I yelled back and noticed that Lion-O seemed to be having the same problem.

"I can't hear you," I repeated, trying to slow down my words and enunciate every syllable in the hopes that he might be able to read my lips. I pointed to my ears and shook my head. He nodded in understanding and then looked down at Lynx-O.

I grabbed Lion-O's shoulder so that he would look at me and then pointed to a small outcropping of rocks several meters from where we were. I pantomimed the act of running to that particular location. It was where I had left Bengali.

It would be another scoop and grab. Hopefully, the lynx's body could handle it, but before we could assess his condition, we needed to get to shelter – some kind of shelter, at least. Where we were, left us too exposed, and the smoke would only cover our surviving the explosion for so long. As it was, our trek to Bengali would be difficult. I already counted three fires erupting from embers dispersed in the detonation, two of which were directly in our path.

Lion-O took his position at Lynx-O's head, and I resumed my place at his feet. We didn't bother counting since neither of us could hear at the moment – hopefully, that was just temporary. We simply looked into each other's eyes and nodded picking up our wounded countryman at the same time.

As we made our way to the boulders, the sky darkened. It wasn't the typical darkness associated with an oncoming storm; it was different, sinister. The wind picked up making it more difficult for us to carry the lynx and maintain our footing. My eyes teared from the gusts, and I found myself staring straight into a gathering tempest.

It was like nothing I had ever seen. Instead of drifting in from any particular direction, it seemed to appear directly overhead. There was a weird energy emanating from the heart of the storm, and the lightning that flashed wasn't the white or pink hue that I had seen in some of the most severe thunderstorms I had witnessed on Third Earth. Instead, the flashes were an eerie green.

Adjusting my grip on Lynx-O as another gust practically tore him from my arms, I looked into the center of the chaos. I don't know how it was even possible, but the grounded, mutant aircraft was now airborne. It seemed to be riding the tornado like a boat eddying a particularly violent undertow. The massive machine circled overhead, it's position on the upper current widening with the centripetal forces being exerted upon it. Suddenly, the twister disappeared, and the mutant craft was flung off through the odd clouds obscuring the horizon.

I had no more time to ponder the significance of that event as Lion-O and I finally reached our destination. We carefully deposited the lynx next to the white tiger and caught our breath. Large, heavy drops of rain began to splatter around us, and Lion-O and I pushed the lynx further under the overhang of one of the bounders until he was completely out of the elements. The wet drops fell so hard that they actually hurt. Even with my fur coat as protection, I could feel them, the rawness on my back exacerbating the sting.

The rain brought Bengali to consciousness as well. He stirred and tried to sit upright.

"Easy, tiger," I said and helped him to find more protection in the small shelter that held Lynx-O as well. I was pleased to note that I heard some of my voice. Lion-O looked at me as well. He too appeared to be regaining his hearing.

"Kutar baicha, my head!" Bengali moaned and pushed both of his hands to his temple.

"Panthro, we need to get the med kit from the tank." Lion-O didn't wait for me to acknowledge him. He just pushed away from the boulders and started in the direction that I had left our incapacitated vehicle. He had taken less than two steps before his body stiffened, and he spun in the direction I had last seen the mutant craft leaving the area.

"By the gods!" His plea was almost drowned out by the heavy rain now practically falling in sheets. It was also the only warning I had as I watched the powerful muscles of the lion's back spring to life, and he took off running.

I looked through the deluge and saw my ThunderTank flying in the air much like Vultureman's Flying Machine had. I wasn't even aware that I was holding my breath until I released it as the tank came to an almost gentle landing in front of Wily Kit. The relief was short-lived. I watched as the limp body of Cheetara was pulled from the tank and suspended in the air almost directly in front of Kit.

"Jāhānnāma," I swore angrily and took a step in the same direction I had seen Lion-O go. Indecision reared through my head, and I looked back and down to the two injured ThunderCats still in my care. I didn't know what to do.

"Go," Bengali said.

"I…I..."

"This is field triage. There is nothing more you can do for either of us. Go help Lion-O; go get the med kit."

"Are you sure?"

Bengali glanced at his friend's still form and closed his eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he looked directly into my face. "No, but you don't have any other choice."

I leaned down and grasped his forearm with my hand. "I will be back."

Bengali returned the gesture. "We're counting on that." He squeezed my arm in emphasis and then released his grip. With one last look at my fallen companions, trying to convince myself it would not be my last, I ran after Lion-O.

The rain fell in waves blinding me and turning the once dusty ground into a river of mud. The wind had lost its rotation, but it still pummeled the area in straight-line gusts picking up the rain and throwing the drops like miniature spears.

I was drenched to the bone and freezing at the same time. My fingers were so numb I could no longer feel them, and for each step I took, I had to take two more to unclog my feet. Slowly and methodically, I made my way to parallel Lion-O. Even though I blended into the landscape, my coloring not much different from the clouds and rain, Lion-O turned to me.

"You need to go back!" He had to shout not because my hearing was still muffled but just to be heard over the pounding of the water and the roar of thunder accompanying the multitude of lightning strikes.

"I'm not leaving you to deal with that alone." I pointed to the area where Kit and Cheetara were. They seemed to be unaffected by the storm raging around us.

"If you had done what I asked you to do in the first place, I wouldn't be dealing with that at all!"

Even though I knew that he spoke in frustration, his words hit harder than if he had physically struck me. I already felt guilty about not being there to protect the cheetah; I certainly didn't need his blame, justified or not, added to it. "Yeah, because you, Bengali and Lynx-O blown to the cosmos is a much better scenario."

A heavy gust of wind knocked us both backward. We had to practically stomach crawl through the mud to make any headway whatsoever. "I'm sorry, Panthro." Lion-O dug his hands into the muck and pulled himself forward. "That was out of line."

"Yeah, no kidding." I copied his movements inching along the ground and trying to keep the muddy rivulets of water that fell into the crags my hands made from pouring into my mouth. Even with the storm rumbling like a tympanic symphony, I suddenly detected a new sound, the distinct whine of an engine. I looked over my shoulder in the general direction of where I thought I might have left the others. A set of polarized lights split the inky wetness blanketing the area.

"Lion-O." I grabbed his arm and tilted my head toward the approaching vehicle. He had not noticed the additional sound. "Looks like the cavalry, second wave, is arriving."

The grin that lifted Lion-O's lips immediately turned downward into a look of dread. I turned my head just in time to watch an odd green light ripple through the air and plow into the approaching HoverCat. As soon as the light struck the vehicle, everything went dark as if the power had been killed.

Both Lion-O and I pivoted using the wind at our back as an aid rather than a deterrent, but before we had managed more than a few steps in the direction of the downed craft, the wind shifted again. It pulled at us, pushed at us. I felt my feet leave the ground and realized that I was surrounded by wind. I spun like a top until I was suddenly put down.

Dizzy, I fell to my knees and then to my hands unable to fight the vertigo that made me feel like I was still whirling. The churning in my stomach fired off the random memory of Snarf's special candyfruit muffins that I had gorged on this morning long before the events of this day were set in motion. By the gods, had that only been this morning? I felt like I had lived through days if not months in the course of the past twelve hours.

"ThunderCats, thank you for joining us. Now, we can finish our conversation here, out in the open and much closer to your Cat's Lair." Kit turned to look at where Lion-O and I had landed. Although her attention was clearly fixed on our arrival, her grip on Cheetara remained unwavering.

Both Lion-O and I slowly got to our feet. I could see the lion stumble slightly as he tried to get his footing. Perhaps, it was I who was the one swaying. I wasn't sure. I felt like I was on a boat navigating a sea of waves; the lingering effects of riding a tornado were obviously still very much in play.

"Wily Kit, you must stop this!" Lion-O implored, his gaze vacillating between the cheetah and the adolescent who was obviously not herself.

"No, lion, it is you who will stop this. Bring me the sword, release Grune, and then this shall stop!"

_Grune?_ That was new. I hadn't heard that latest demand. I thought the entity wanted the sword for the Eye of Thundera's power just like all of the other villains that we had encountered on Third Earth or anywhere else for that matter. _What was going on here?_

Lion-O ran a hand through his red mane. His frustration was evident in his actions and his tone. "We've been through this before. I cannot call the sword. And, even if I had the power to call it, the sword will not follow a command made for evil purposes."

"And I told you that I was not evil."

"Could have fooled me," I muttered drawing Wily Kit's attention.

"Panther, such tone. I would think that a lover would not speak in such a manner."

Lion-O's head snapped sideways, his eyes intent on mine. His gaze lowered to my lip lingering on the bite mark I could still feel smarting. I didn't deign a comment to the question in the young lord's eyes. Instead, I turned to look at Cheetara. She was suspended in midair, but it did not appear that the entity was holding her by the throat as I had been. She was just floating apparently unharmed. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. Her eyes were closed and her head bent downward almost resting against her chest. She didn't appear to be conscious.

Kit's interest in me was brief. "You know what it is that I want. Must I show you how important it is for you to cooperate?" A flash of green energy lit Kit's eyes, and Cheetara screamed. She jerked upright, her eyes burning with pain locking with Lion-O's.

"There are approximately 230 bones in a Thunderian skeleton." Kit circled the suspended cheetah and stopped so that she was almost directly looking into Cheetara's face. "He has the power to save you," she whispered in a conspiratorial voice before turning to look directly at Lion-O. "The sword, now!"

The brief second before Cheetara screamed again, I swore I heard a snap. Tears were now streaming down her face, but even in her distress, the cheetah shook her head at Lion-O, a silent plea not to give in to the creature's demands.

"Please, Kit." Lion-O's voice was laced with desperation. "I told you I can't."

"I've seen you command the weapon before." With a flick of her wrist Kit broke another of Cheetara's bones. Cheetara cried out again, but the sound was different, more like a sobbing whimper.

"Call it, or must I break every bone in her body?"

Lion-O noticed the change in the cheetah as well. I saw him tense and knew what he was going to do probably before he did. As he lunged, I stepped forward with him and spun bodily into him blocking his advance with my shoulder. Even with both of my palms braced against his chest; I felt my feet slide. Losing traction in the arid dust, I had to dig in my heels to stop the lion's pursuit.

Anger was easy to read in the lion's face, and I felt him push against me harder. My ribs slid with my feet. Baring my teeth in the effort, I bit down against the fiery tendrils of pain streaking across my side. My words came panting through my clenched teeth. "You can't. Any move you make against her hurts Kit."

"I grow tired of this. How much longer do you think she will survive?" Kit raised her hand in the air and waited a fraction of a second for us to look at her. Her hand stroked down Cheetara's forearm, to her wrist, to the hand that had been injured and was just finally beginning to heal. A predatory look drifted across Kit's face, and she tapped the cheetah's hand. A sickening crunch followed.

The scream that tore from Cheetara's lips echoed around the glade. Lion-O's strong body slammed against my shoulder and hands rocking us both closer to Cheetara and her tormenter. He drew back his arms and hammered them across my sides directly impacting my wounded ribs. The pain brought me to my knees, and the lion took off.

Lion-O was almost within striking distance of Wily Kit when the ThunderTank behind us flew into the air. He barely ducked in time to avoid a blow from the heavy machine as it flew over his head and disappeared through the dark clouds swirling like a shield around our location.

"Ah ha, the striped second-in-command, you care for her. You shall get me what I want!"

Both Lion-O and I turned to look at Tygra and Wily Kat as they rose to their feet from where they must have been hiding. Tygra's face was ashen. He kept looking from Cheetara to Wily Kit and back. He obviously couldn't reconcile the images of who he knew them to be with the realities of our situation. I'd become too jaded – seen too much in the last few hours – to be fazed by the outright aggression the youngest female of our family had displayed. Even though I knew these events were completely beyond her control, my vision of Kit would forever be colored by this day.

Wily Kat stepped in front of Tygra, blocking his sister's view of her new objective, the acting Lord of the ThunderCats. "Enough, Kefiera!"

I felt my mouth open in surprise. The tone was enough for me to realize that it was more than Wily Kat who stood before me. His use of a name I'd never heard was additional proof. Wily Kit seemed surprised as well. She stared at her brother and dropped Cheetara.

I felt the breeze from Lion-O's departure as he went to aid the cheetah who lay on the ground. She was emitting no sound, no movement. Tygra too ran to Cheetara's side. Knowing I would be able to offer no assistance to them, I staggered to my feet and slowly edged my way to stand next to Wily Kat, or this version of Kat.

Wily Kit finally found her voice. It was etched with confusion and suspicion. "Kefir?"

oooOOOooo

"Kefir?" The word passed my lips as I stared into the face of my brother. It was not the word I had tried to form, but it seemed fitting and accurate; it also, somehow, conveyed the same meaning. Brother and sister – Wily Kat and I; Kefir and Kefiera– it all seemed to suddenly make sense. It was as if we were all linked and yet not.

"How?"

Yes, that was the question I too wanted answered, but since it was Kefiera who'd asked, it meant something completely different.

"Because of you," Wily Kat answered.

I stared at his face, my brother, who had changed as much as I in the past three years. We were no longer awkward children trying to find a place among the older ThunderCats. We had grown into our roles, no longer in-training but not yet full-fledged in our responsibilities. I guess apprentice was the best classification for us now.

Although we had shed our youth, some of it forced by circumstances some of it from natural growth, the patterns of who we were had not changed. Whenever either of us was in trouble, the other would be there. I thanked the gods that Kat was here now.

"Me?" There was laughter in my voice not from humor but from bitterness. Obviously, Kefiera had not had the same experience as I.

"Kefiera, stop this madness."

"Madness? What do you know of madness? You were taken from me centuries ago. You have no idea what I went through. This is not insanity; this is justice!"

"I know," the voice that spoke was feminine and barely above a whisper, but my keen hearing picked it up as if it had been shouted with a megaphone.

I turned to look at the owner of the voice. With Lion-O on one side and Tygra on the other supporting her, Cheetara was more lying that sitting on the ground. I had done my worst to her. She had been like a mother to me and as I got older, a sister, and I had all but killed her. My shame made me want to recoil, disappear into the depths of myself, but something kept me here in the nightmarish present I had created or, at the very least, not prevented from being created. I looked into the cheetah's amber eyes. Exhaustion gleamed back at me, but it was more than that; it was the finality in her gaze that frightened me.

"What is it that you think you know, swift one?"

Cheetara's eyes changed. A light seemed to surround her irises creating a golden-hued halo that sparkled. I was overwhelmed with visions: Cheetara as a youngling battling with the ThunderCats against a mutant raid on a rural outpost town; her mate and family during some kind of clan ritual; the destruction of Thundera; the attack on our fleet that devastated our people – killed her clan, her mate; her realization of the loss of her children.

The images shifted to scenes that were completely alien to me: a Thunderian lion and lioness crash-landing in an ancient ship that I had only seen in the history archives; humans of all sorts worshipping and paying homage to both Leos as rain gently bathed the land; fields and fields of fruits, vegetables, and flowers flourishing as far as the eye could see; another ship blazing across the sky; Grune dressed in the same manner that I had last seen him when we battled him almost two years ago – only possessing both of his saber teeth; Grune and the lioness sitting under a canopy of trees enjoying an evening picnic; an engagement and celebration of unity; Grune killing the Leo male during a mating feast and then attacking the lioness who managed to tear out one of his teeth before collapsing from a devastating blow.

The images stopped, and both the entity and I fell back a step still reeling from the psychic overload.

Hands warm and gentle encircled my upper arms. I took solace in the warmth for a moment – we both did – until the being inside me suddenly pushed us away. "Too little, too late!" I screamed, completely focusing on my brother whose arms had been the ones offering comfort, protection. I felt my fingers curling into fists as the odd sensation of energy built.

_No! He is my brother!_

My plea fell on deaf ears, and Kefiera unleashed the power hitting Wily Kat full-force. The green lightning from my hands arced and flickered over his skin like he was being electrocuted, and Kat fell backward. Panthro who stood next to him caught him before he struck the ground.

_Kat! _My psychic scream caused the entity controlling my body to falter. I looked down at my hands; they were shaking. Could Kefiera have regrets as well? She had not just attacked my brother but hers as well.

_Kit…,_ the thought touched my mind. It was ephemeral and soft like a summer's breeze. I began to seek out its origin, but the shadowy whisper came again. _No, don't search for me; Kefiera will know I am here. Just listen._

"You!" My body spun, and I approached Cheetara. If it were even possible she looked worse than before. Blood dripped from her nose and stained the corners of her eyes, an effect of using a gift over which she had limited control. Both Tygra and Lion-O stepped forward creating a physical barrier with their bodies between the cheetah and me. They would be no more effective than trying to put out a raging inferno with ice cubes.

I could feel the energy crackling at my fingertips. The others had no idea how much Kefiera's power had grown. With the rise of the moon, I could feel her strength increasing. She was having less difficulty containing me even with the constant use of her powers.

_I know,_ soothed the voice in my head. _That is why we must work in secret. _

Since I was now playing host to at least three different personalities, the errant thought of running out of room in my brain flitted through my mind. The absurdity of the notion would have caused me to double over in psychotic laughter, but I had no such control of my body and could do nothing more than watch. My hands came together, almost as if I were about to clap, and then spread wide. Lion-O and Tygra went flying off in opposite directions leaving Cheetara vulnerable.

Cheetara stared up at me. She could not move to stand or to protect herself; I had broken bones in both of her legs as well as her hand. However, she refused to cower in fear.

"You understand?" Kefiera's voice had changed a modicum. It wasn't the rage that I associated with everything that she did; it was filled with sadness, grief.

"I have been there, Kefiera. I know the desire of revenge, the lust to take back what has been taken from you."

"Yes, yes! It is you with whom I should have merged. Your soul is a mirror of mine."

I stooped down and gently touched the side of Cheetara's cheek. It was bruised, and a laser welt marred her temple. "But, I cannot. Your physical weakness from the firerocks prevents it."

In my peripheral vision, I could see the four males closing around us. Kefiera was just as aware. She spun around, my hands blazing with the energy that I had begun to associate with the violence of her. "This could all end; just give me Grune. I don't want your sword; I don't want your people; I want what was taken from me. I want my justice."

Wily Kat stood point in the group of males. I was relieved that he appeared to be little worse for wear after my attack. I had learned that while Kefiera took her power from the moon, Kefir took his from the sun. They were opposites yet the same.

_Stay with me, Kit. The time is close._

"Why must you oppose me? After all this time, why will you not help me?"

"Because what you are doing is wrong!"

I felt my blood rise with Kefiera's anger at my brother's words. The light that surrounded my hands flared in elongated bursts resembling whips. They crackled in warning, and the males all took a reflexive step backwards. "You know nothing of my life! Grune killed you that day but not me. He had plans for me…"

I don't think that it was her intention, but the stress of the situation or perhaps her own grief placed Kefiera's memories to the forefront of my mind and became shared images, a shared life.

* * *

_I was chained to a wall. I'd lost track of time. It could have been days or possibly weeks given the stench and state of my body. A door cracked open. I pushed myself completely upright against the wall. The rough-hewn stones bit into my bare back reopening sores and wounds that I refused to heal. I would not waste my power – if I ever had enough – on my own comfort. Comfort was an illusion in this world, my world that had collapsed with Kefir's death – no his murder._

_The bright light spilling from the doorway indicated that the day was at its peak. I supposed that was the only time he dared come to me. Even in my physically weakened state, he didn't trust me not to take his head off. _

_The footsteps that tread on the floor were light, too little weight to be of my captor. I looked down into the face of a young human as she slowly approached me. She was carrying a small bowl. I could hear the splash of water, and my throat constricted with want. _

_The girl couldn't be more than a youngling. As she drew closer, her face became illuminated. In shock, I stared at her._

"_Uzuri?"_

_The human female raised her head in a hesitant nod. The motion moved her hair away from her face revealing deep cuts, claw marks, running from her hairline to her chin. Anger boiled my blood, and the faint tendrils of my magic flared at my fingertips. I would rip him from stem to stern for doing this to a defenseless girl._

"_Did Grune?" I couldn't bring myself to finish the statement. The tears glistening in Uzuri's eyes were enough of an answer anyway. _

"_Grune! Grune!" I screamed, listening to my raw voice echo in the cage the monster had left me. My chained hands rattled as I tore at the restraints. A hot touch of acid flared across my wrists, and I fell against the wall spent physically but not mentally._

"_Mistress, please!" Uzuri's gaze darted to the door. Her eyes were wide with fright and her mannerisms jerky as if she expected a blow to come from the very walls that held me captive._

"_What did he say?" I tried to ask in a gentle voice, but my anger forced the words into a feral growl. Uzuri backed away. I tried to calm myself outwardly; inwardly, I was a seething mess. "Uzuri, what did he say?"_

"_He wants me to bathe you, Mistress."_

_The anger that I barely held in check almost escaped. I pulled against the restraints, and for the first time, I was almost grateful for the firerocks infused in the metal. The power-dampening field helped drain the anger away so that I did not scare Uzuri further. "Very well."_

_Uzuri approached me again and set the bowl of water at my feet. She slowly wrung out a sea sponge collecting the excess liquid in the bowl. _

_I had been allowed less than a few swallows of water and even less food during my captivity. My body was desperate for the moisture. In the back of my mind, I almost sang with joy. Grune had no idea what I could do with the water that would hydrate me._

_Tears began running down Uzuri's face as she brought the sponge to my arm. "I'm sorry, Mistress."_

"_Sorry? For what?" _

_Uzuri's ministrations were tentative, fearful. The sponge slid along my parched coat wiping the grime away. The brief respite I had changed as the wetness began to burn across the nerve endings of my fur. I screamed! I writhed in agony, twisting like a kite in the wind. My body convulsed and slammed me into the stone, but even the rock did nothing to abate feeling of my body on fire. _

_A large, powerful hand gripped me by the jaw and slammed my head backward. I saw stars, but I could not cease the trembling in my limbs. I twitched as I was pinned and through streaming eyes, I made out the blurry image of the saber._

"_Bin mbwa!" The curse was supposed to be accompanied by me spitting in his leering face, but the words were all I managed, and they came out in a pathetic whimper. _

_He laughed, a guttural sound of evil pleasure, deep and resonant. If it were possible, I could actually taste my hate for him. _

"_Is that anyway to treat your savior?" Grune asked, as he picked up a few pieces of the ceramic bowl Uzuri had brought; it must have shattered when I had reacted to the tainted water._

_I didn't reply. I was too busy trying keep from passing out. I had no idea what the saber would do if I were further incapacitated. My eyes skittered around the room. There was no sign of Uzuri._

_Grune's other hand slid up my cheek. His sharp claw traced a lazy line from my ear to my lips. There was enough pressure to raise the skin under my fur but not enough to draw blood. "You can end this, you know. Be my betrothed as you promised. If you're good, I might even let you bear my offspring."_

"_Nende jahanum!" I growled, finally able to concentrate as the pain subsided to a dull ache._

_His lips curled into a ferocious snarl. He grabbed the wet sponge that was on the floor. Without wringing out the excess water it had absorbed from the contents that had spilled, he swiped it roughly across my face, down my neck, and past my shoulder. _

_I barely heard the words, "You first!" before my screaming began._

_

* * *

  
_

Tears filled my eyes. I wasn't sure whose they were – mine or Kefiera's. I didn't care either. The only thing I wanted was Grune to answer for the atrocities he had waged on Third Earth, on Kefiera, on me.

_Kit._

I didn't respond. In fact, I tried to shut out the voice demanding my attention. Kefiera was right. Grune deserved to pay. She deserved justice. The brief snippet of her memory that had been shared barely touched the surface of what he had done to her. Before she banished her memories, I had caught a glimpse of much darker horrors.

_Kit!_

_Go away! _I shouted at the voice. _I will not stop her!_

_Kitara!_ I flinched. No one had used that name in years. All of the other ThunderCats had called me Wily Kit or Kit, never Kitara. I hadn't heard my given name since Jaga had come to our house and told Kata and me that Mom would not be coming home.

_You must listen to me. I cannot do this alone. Will you help me, us?_

I didn't want to. I understood the being in my body now. I knew she wasn't the evil that I had thought. She had become a product of what she fought.

_Exactly. But, she doesn't see that. Just listen, and please, do as I say when I ask. Others' lives are at stake. Bengali and Lynx-O will not survive the hour if we do not act._

I didn't know what the voice was talking about until I thought about what we had done. _The HoverCat! _I realized. They had been coming to help and I had…

_No, Kitara, Kefiera caused it to crash._

"Kefiera," Cheetara called out gaining my attention. "I know what you have suffered."

"Yes, you sought out the mutant. He killed your mate, your children. He deserved the same."

"No." Cheetara shook her head.

"What do you mean, no? I saw what you did to him. He'll not likely survive."

Cheetara bent her head and shook it again slowly.

"You have no reason to feel ashamed. You acted, just as I." I levitated the cheetah from the ground and brought her face-to-face with me.

She raised her head and looked at me. I could see the anguish reflecting there. "I broke the Code of Thundera!"

"A code that keeps you from true justice is already broken."

"Perhaps, but it was the one thing that separated me from him."

"You are, were, nothing like the reptilian!"

"I chased after S-Slithe. I stooped to his level. When the craft exploded, I wanted to leave him in the dirt, let him die out in the open like the vermin he was.

"But as I watched him gasping for his last breath, I realized there was still a piece of me, a tiny fragment, that refused give up everything I had believed – Kijani, the twins, and my friends would not have wanted me to live my life trying to get back what had been taken from me. It wasn't worth it.

"In seeking to destroy your enemy, you become him. If only for a moment, I became as vile as S-Slithe. Just like you, Kefiera, are exactly like Grune!"

"Pakacha!" I didn't know what to expect from Cheetara's statement. The rage that filled me was like nothing I had ever felt. The slap of my palm against the cheetah's cheek echoed in the sudden silence.

Cheetara's head flew to the side with the impact. She did not retaliate. She simply turned back to face me. "You know that I speak the truth."

"No, I…I have done what is necessary." Kefiera's words sounded less than convincing to me. "The mutants did that to you." My fingers pointed to the laser burn on her shoulder.

"The mutants are my enemy. They fight dirty and will do anything to get what they want. What about you? What will you do to get revenge against Grune? Will you destroy me? Destroy Wily Kit? What about her brother – your brother? How many Thunderians will you go through, kill, murder, just to get what you want?"

_Now, Kit, push with your mind. You can gain control!_

My knees shook. I felt the ground reach up to grab me as I fell. Tears coursed down my face, and I was suddenly alone. A gentle arm draped across my shoulder and pulled me into a fierce embrace. Unable to stop myself, I began to sob openly against Wily Kat's chest.

The storm that surrounded us faded to a starlit, night sky. The bright orb of an almost full moon cast the landscape in silver. The lack of sound was almost deafening.

A sudden shimmer of light began to burn in the center of the earth next to where I had been standing. Slowly, an ethereal being made entirely of moonlight took shape. It was the image of a lioness from Thundera. She wore a crown with a disk surrounded by a serpent. She was wrapped in a garment that looked like tiny mirrors reflecting the silver light back to all who gazed upon her.

"I don't know what to do," the ghost spoke and for the first time, I heard her outside of me, in a voice that was not a twisted version of mine. "I have been in search of Grune longer than I can remember. The atrocities he committed…" The figure moved to stand in front of Cheetara. "But you, cheetah, speak the truth, a truth only one who has lived it can know."

"Make it right," Cheetara answered from where she had fallen to the ground. "You still have time to…" Before she completed her sentence, she collapsed fully. Both Lion-O and Tygra ran to her side.

"She's in respiratory arrest," Tygra yelled, finding that she had stopped breathing. "Uccāra, I've lost her pulse! Lion-O!" With his name as his only instruction, Lion-O began artificial respiration, and Tygra took action as her heart, using his fists to push blood through her body to her brain.

"Kefiera!" I pushed out of Wily Kat's arms and ran to the being who stood off to the side watching the males attempt to revive Cheetara. "You have the power to heal. You must help her!"

The green eyes that stared at me were full of sadness, remorse. "I cannot, little one. I have no power against firerocks."

"Please, you must do something."

"She has done enough!" Lion-O snarled and pushed away from the cheetah. He was so intent on Kefiera he didn't even notice Panthro quickly taking his place. "I wish I could summon the sword, bring Grune to you; give you the opportunity to look into his face – your face!"

"Leave her alone, Lion-O!" Wily Kat stepped between the lion and the lioness.

Lion-O clenched his fists but whirled away before he physically struck my brother. Wily Kat stared at the lion's back for a moment before turning to both Kefiera and me. "You can do this if you really want to. Kit and I can help you."

The entity looked at me; her piercing green eyes seemed to stare into my very soul, a soul with which she was quite intimate. "Would you allow me to merge again?"

I stepped back. I hadn't intended to, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. Would I willingly let the ghost possess my body once more after I had fought so hard to be rid of her?

"Kit." Kat's hands grasped my shoulders and gently squeezed. "It will be different this time." I stared wordlessly into his eyes, exact mirrors of mine. "I'll be with you."

I turned and took a few steps away. I crossed my arms and hugged myself as I watched Tygra and Panthro work frantically on Cheetara. Lion-O knelt by her side. With each life saving breath and each press of hands, I could see the lion fall further and further into despair. If there was a chance…

I pivoted on my foot and returned to Kat. "What do I have to do?"

_-TBC-_

_A/N: If you can spare a moment (and haven't already done so), please vote in the poll on my profile page. I'm trying to get reader input on how future writing in this fandom should go. Regards, RL._

**Sources/Terms:**

Flash flood: The Weather World 2010 Project. University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign (UIUC), Multilines also known as Squall Lines. Found on the web. Research downloaded 2/11/2009.

Kutar baicha – Bengali origin, translated to English. Used as a Tigris swearing, means son of a bitch – found online from insultmonger

Jāhānnāma  - Bengali origin; transliterated into English. Literally means: to condemn to hell. Used to mean damn it – or damned – in Tigris. Found on the web at SAMSAD Bengali-English Dictionary

Uzuri - Swahili origin, "beauty' found online The Kamusi Project

Bin mbwa – Swahili origin, bin = "son of": mbwa = "dog" - loosely translated by author to mean "son of a bitch" found online The Kamusi Project

Nende jahanum – Swahili origin, jahanum = "hell": nenda = "go" converted to nende (to form a command) – loosely translated by author to mean "go to hell" found online The Kamusi Project

Kitara – Wily Kit's full name. Swahili orgin - scimitar (curved sword) - found online The Kamusi Project

Kata – Wily Kat's full Name. Swahili orgin - cut (to cut) - found online The Kamusi Project

Pakacha – Swahili origin, means liar. Found at the OnLine Swahili – English Dictionary:

Uccāra – Bengali origin – means excrement – Tigris vulgarity translation, shit found on the web at SAMSAD Bengali-English Dictionary

--------

_As always, translations errors are the responsibility of the author not the site used for research. I do not speak any African language, but I have attempted to translate and be grammatically correct. I welcome input from native speakers. Please feel free to point out corrections to the translations to me. – RL_


	11. Chapter 11

**Really long chapter warning**

**Chapter 11**

**Silver Lining**

**

* * *

**

_Every cloud has a silver lining is an expression that means: All bad things come with some good attached to them. Out of every problem we face, we can gain some advantage. The current phrase was first coined by John Milton in his work, __Comus__ (1634): "'Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud/ Turn forth her silver lining on the night?" Meteorologically speaking, clouds can have what appears to be a silver lining. When the sun is directly behind dark clouds it can cause the top layer of the cloud to look lighter since it is thinner and less dense than the rest of the cloud. The water droplets reflect the light making it look like it is shining brightly white or silver with the contrast of the covering cloud._

* * *

I watched as Panthro and Tygra did their best to try and resuscitate Cheetara – each breath, each pump – forcing precious, oxygenated lifeblood into and through a body that had already surrendered. Even though their efforts were met with unresponsiveness, they refused to stop. Between the thundranium poisoning and her physical injuries, it was unlikely that the cheetah would survive even if they managed to bring her back from the brink, but perhaps I could save her if only he would let me try.

My gaze shifted to Lion-O; his jaw was set in a tight, grim line; his eyes shone brightly with determination. He refused to give up on her as if he could keep her alive just willing it to be so, but I knew firsthand that was impossible.

"Lion-O," my voice was soft, but it was enough for him to hear. As he met my eyes, his distrust of me, of my motives, was written plainly across his face. He had already made up his mind.

I glanced back at Kat. He thought that if I merged with Kefiera we could set things right. His confidence in her abilities and mine, for that matter, was much greater than that of the entity or myself. Time was growing short. The night was waning. I could feel the dawn slowly taking our strength.

Wily Kat spun away from me and grabbed Lion-O's arm pulling him away from Cheetara. "Will you let your pride kill her?"

I watched the muscles of the lion's arms tense in anger, coiling with rage, but he did not unleash it at my brother, he turned to me instead. "You caused this." His voice was low, almost a whisper, but the sound was as loud as if he had shouted at me.

I bent my head under the sheer weight of those few words. They melted into my soul, blackening it. "Then let me fix it."

The lion shook his head. "You want to help? See to Pumyra and the others. They are likely little better off than Cheetara."

Tygra interrupted, "We need the portable defibrillator. We won't get her heart started like this. There is one in the tank."

_The ThunderTank that we had tossed away through the clouds, _I realized.

The tiger didn't even look up at us. As soon as he finished speaking, he resumed his breathing for the cheetah. I should have left Cheetara in the tank. I should have stopped Kefiera before she had gone as far as she did.

_You could not,_ the lioness whispered. She had been very careful to stay in the background of my body – allowing me to keep complete control. That knowledge brought less reassurance than I would have thought. _Focus, young one, we can use my power of the elements merged with yours of motion and retrieve your vehicle._

"This is your show," I whispered to the entity. "I'm surrendering control to you. Bring the tank here."

Kefiera needed no more prompting. I felt coldness fill my body and the odd electric feeling of power growing. I also felt her tap into my new found kinesthetic talent.

The winds around us grew. They whipped my hair into my face and around my head. I looked through my eyes, our eyes, and could sense the other ThunderCats nearby. I felt every breath, every palpitation, every movement that each made, had made. Everything was a wash of color in motion. The sheer magnitude of the information assaulting me tore me in two. I screamed in agony, but Kefiera contained it.

_Focus, ThunderCat!_

It was a good thing that I had given the lioness control of my body. I did not have the capacity to use my ability in this way, and there was no way that I would have remained conscious through such devastating imagery.

I followed the path the tank had taken. I saw the cloud bank that was no longer there and the gouges left by the treads of the vehicle as it plowed into the saturated ground creating two mud banks twice as high as the vehicle itself. There was a deep scar bearing metal shards of armored siding on the surface of a rock outcropping where the tank had come to a sudden and abrupt halt.

A sudden whispered thought, one I didn't think Kefiera intended to share with me, flitted through our rapport. _I must be careful, or I will burn out her power long before she ever has a chance to learn to use it._

"Take it!" I cried, again my voice was contained inside of me. "Do whatever you have to do!"

_Kitara, I…_

"We did this, Kefiera, together. Together we must make it right."

_As you wish._

This time when I screamed, I lost myself as well.

oooOOOooo

It was gray but without foreboding; there was no innate sense of danger, no ominous sounds – no sounds at all really. Instead, there were flecks that seemed to bounce light all around me, making my surroundings almost appear to sparkle, changing my earlier impression of gray to silver.

As pretty as the phenomenon was, it still gave no information as to where I was or to where everyone else had gone. My last clear memory was talking to Kefiera, finally getting the entity to realize the folly of revenge – a lesson I had scarcely learned a short time ago myself. The next thing I knew was this place.

Perspectives can change with position; perhaps, if I were not flat on my back looking into the mist above, I might have a better vantage. Mindful of the state of my body and of the wounds I had suffered, I sat up carefully and was immediately struck by the lack of any sensation. Tempting fate, I rose to my knees and then to my feet, again nothing.

Pain had been a constant factor, albeit in the background, of my body since I had returned to consciousness in the prison of the Temple Ruins, but here there was nothing, no pain, no – weight? I looked down at my body. There was corporeal form, but it was translucent like an image projected on a screen; in this case, the screen was the haze that made up the wherever I was.

I must be in the vestiges of yet another sixth sense inspired trance, I decided. It was quite different from anything I had ever experienced with my cursed gift, but then again my psychic visions had always been spontaneous and difficult to distinguish from reality. Although I hadn't felt the familiar tightening around the back and mid-portion of my skull, which usually indicated an imminent episode, I had already had one such vision this day. Perhaps, another manifestation so close on its heels would have a cumulative effect, or maybe my previous injuries were muting my often-faulty, early warning signal.

I couldn't decide if I were relieved or worried about the lack of pain. That one factor had always left me feeling grounded when I entered a trance state; without it, I feared I might not be able to find my way back to my physical body.

Trying to keep my focus on my surroundings, I looked into the platinum-lit, gossamer fog but found it as thick and opaque here as it had been while I had been lying down. I had no direction, but not one to simply sit and wait, I decided to walk through the mist and maybe discover where the here was.

"Cheetara, child, what are you doing here?"

I turned around looking for the voice that I had heard but saw nothing except more of the same muted gray. I had recognized the voice, but I could not place it. The mist made it impossible for me to see and altered the direction of sound.

"Where are you?" I called out, spinning in a full circle. There was no change in my surroundings, and my voice seemed to echo back at me as if I were in a canyon.

Something touched my shoulder. It was almost as if the haze behind me had become solid somehow, but I had no physical form, so how could I feel? I swallowed the scream that welled into my throat at the sudden contact. Although I expected more of the gray expanse that was this place, I followed the sensation of the presence behind me. This time when I completed the turn, I found myself staring into Jaga's face.

As I gazed at my one-time mentor, emotions rushed through me so quickly they were unable to be named. I had not seen him clearly since I had entered the suspension capsule – a lifetime ago. Well, there had been that time with Grune, but it hadn't been like this – not even remotely close, and my recollections of that day had been impaired. I had still been recovering from the trance I had induced to get information on the ghost that had been tormenting us.

I realized that my thoughts had come full circle returning to the sabertooth again, and although I knew there was irony that the fallen ThunderCat would be the unifying factor that again brought me face-to-face with Jaga, my mind was too busy churning with the implications of seeing the jaguar and what it meant that I did not linger on Grune's role in all of events leading up to this. I looked back to my hands, seeing the gray through them, and then back up into Jaga's face. "What does this mean? Am I?"

"No," he answered, cutting me off from my speculation. "I don't know why you are here, but you have not transcended to the astral fields. This is the netherworld."

I turned away from my companion and studied the space where we were. I should have known that this wasn't the astral plane. It held no joy, no gleaming towers of light, and even less clarity.

"Netherworld," I repeated in a whisper as if the mere repetition would give me understanding. Instead, it gave me focus on something completely different. "But, why are you here?"

"I was sent," Jaga answered, but even as I turned to look into his eyes for further explanation, I received no more answers. His eyes had become as hard as flint – as unrevealing as the three words he had uttered.

"Sent?"

"I can say no more. Cheetara, you aren't supposed to be here. You need to go back."

Fog swirling with my body, I spun around and spread my hands outward gesturing to the nothingness. "How? Where am I supposed to go?"

"You…"

I stopped listening to his words as another sound chimed through the haze. It was laugher, not the mad laughter of insanity, but the pure laughter of youthful innocence. I took a step in the direction I thought the noise had come, but Jaga moved with me and blocked my path.

I tried to continue on and slide around him, but for each move I made, he countered. The giggling intensified, and I recognized the pitch as children at play. There were two, a boy and girl.

"_Can't catch me; I'm too fast."_

"_I'm just as fast as you are. Hey, no fair! Da, he cheated!"_

"_Enough, little ones, it is getting late, and we must go." _This voice was the deeper rumble of a full grown male. It was also a voice that had echoed over and over in my head since waking on Third Earth.

"Little one," I repeated the words that haunted me on a nightly basis.

Jaga's arms shot around my shoulders and pulled me against his formidable chest. _No!_ I fought; I tried to break free of the hold that the jaguar had upon me. _It cannot be!_ My head warred with my heart, but it was a foregone conclusion. I knew that voice just as I recognized who the bantering children must be.

"I have to!" I pleaded and tried to squirm free.

"You cannot!"

"Jaga, it's Kijani and the twins. Please, Jaga."

The jaguar remained firm, his body held like a shield keeping me from my heart's desire. "It is not your time, Cheetara. There are forces at work here that you do not understand. If you are allowed to see what was, what might have been, you can never return. You will be trapped here forever, and you are meant for so much more. "

"I don't care," I snarled, slicing my claws across his face. Shocked, he loosened his grip, and I viciously tore myself from his grasp. As soon as I was free, I ran, my speed coming as second nature.

Soon, I was lost in the fog. I had run to where I thought the voices had come, but each step I took led me further into grayness with no sense of where I really was. Exhausted, I slowed to a walk and finally stopped altogether. Frustrated tears gathered in my eyes and blurred my vision. The lump of grief that had lived in my heart all this time rose as a choking sob in my throat. _Why,_ I wondered and savagely scrubbed my face with my hands trying to stop the wetness before it streamed in tracks down my cheeks. Apparently, ghosts can cry, I realized and almost lost my grip on what little sanity I had left.

"Are you finished?"

Combating my feelings of helplessness and self-loathing, I shrouded myself with anger and turned to the bearer of the voice. "This will never be finished; don't you understand that? I never got the chance to make things right, settle things, and I never will. It will always be there just sitting on the edge of memories!"

Jaga bore my lashing out in his usual way, with a stoic stare. It was a tactic I remembered well, and while it might still have power over Lion-O, it held no such power over me, not anymore. My gaze flickered across his cheek. There were no marks showing, no signs of the wounds I had inflicted on him. Confused, I returned to stare into his eyes, more hazel than the russet I remembered, and suddenly, I saw more. It was almost as if I could read his thoughts.

"You knew?" My words were gasped as I realized the answer before I had completely voiced the question.

His broke the stare and looked down at the ground; it was all the confirmation I needed and all that he would give. At least, he hadn't tried to pretend, hadn't kept his faux calm and reiterated meaningless platitudes. However, I took little solace in his acute reaction.

"You knew, and you still had me come with you on the flagship?" My surprise and anger rang in my voice; it quivered under the impact of full realization.

"You were given the opportunity to tell him," Jaga said.

"I was given thirty minutes to gather my things from the Acinonyx Clan ship and to explain that I was called to travel on the flagship. There was no time."

"What about the weeks before when we didn't even know about the planet destabilizing?"

I didn't answer. What could I say? That I was scared, that I had doubts, that I…

Jaga's hands gripped each of my upper arms. This time it was a gesture of comfort, but it was something I did not want, deserve. What I wanted was someone else to blame, and the sad truth was that I was simply too weak to have done the right thing so long ago. I pushed away from the jaguar.

"You have so much of your life left to live, and yet you wallow in a shadow of your own making. Cheetara, Kijani is the past; why have you chosen to live there with him."

"How dare you!" I hissed and turned to confront him.

Jaga's hands came up in a placating gesture that only served to fuel my wrath more. I could feel my claws scraping against the skin of my palms as I tried desperately not to physically attack him again. I was afraid that if I did I would not stop with a simple swipe.

"This realm is made up of what ifs. I know you are thinking about what you have lost, but, Cheetara, what about what you have gained, your friends, your family? Will you leave them behind to live with a memory – a might have been?"

I shook my head. I didn't understand, or maybe I was choosing not to. I wasn't sure anymore. My thoughts were becoming as muddled as the murky fog surrounding me. The laughter rose up again, and my head turned following it. There, I located the origin, in a small area where the fog didn't appear as thick. I took a step and then another. I think I heard Jaga speak – something about danger – but I did not heed. The laughter and the voices were too mesmerizing, and I drifted closer to where I thought they must have been coming.

Slowly the mist lightened, and two figures delineated themselves from the gray. They were small in stature and not simply because they were sitting. In front of them flickered a soft light much like a candle wavering in a gentle breeze. My earlier assessment of them sitting had been mistaken. They weren't sitting; they were reclining.

"_Tell us a story, Da."_

"_Yes, Da, tell us the story about when you and Ma first met."_

"_If I do this, you must promise me that you will go off to sleep."_

"_But…" _the two voices chorused in challenge_._

"_No, buts,"_

"_Oh, all right." _The agreement came with marked resignation.

Laughter rumbled over the space between the children and me. The sound was its own music. It called to me, and I willingly followed, drawing closer to the three. But, for every step I took, the figures seemed to also move just out of reach.

I stopped and listened to the story, a story I knew by heart. He began with how he had first seen me. I had never heard myself described in such a way. My heart ached. The pain that had been a non-factor slammed into me and brought me to my knees. I tried to call out, let him know I was here, but no sound escaped from my lips.

Kijani told the story so well even acknowledging that he had been arrogant enough to challenge me to the race in the first place. He spoke of all of the attempts he had made to overtake me, even related that he had tried to cheat, which I had never known, but in the end, he was no match for, in his own words, the beautiful and swift cheetah.

It was as if I had been transported back to that day.

---

_My lungs were searing as I gulped great draughts of air into them. I could hear the rushing of my blood pounding in my ears. _

_A lean figure fell to the ground next to me, a mirror of me, panting and gasping for air, sweat pouring from every pore. "You're good," the male cheetah wheezed in between the puffs of air with which he was trying to fill his lungs. _

"_You were warned," I retorted, pleased that I didn't sound like I was dying. I certainly thought I might be. I had hit my limit and pushed past it, and I had never been so exhausted in my entire life._

_The cheetah laughed, low and full of mirth. "Not only by you but also by your brother." He lifted a hand and waved it toward the cheetah who had been watching the entire event. _

"_Yet, you still did it."_

"_In a heartbeat." _

_He looked directly into my eyes. His were the greenest I had ever seen. It was a rare eye color in most of the clans, but in an Acinonyx, it was practically unheard. I found myself lost in those eyes. I could see my reflection mirrored in their depths and the promise of so much more just below the surface._

"_So, what now?" My voice had sunk low into a husky whisper. I cleared my throat and pulled away from this mesmerizing male, a cheetah before this day I had never even met._

"_Now, you collect your prize."_

"_And what would that be?"_

_His large hand reached around my head and pulled me to him. The next thing I knew my lips were on fire as his swept over them claiming them, branding me. Slowly, his other hand trailed down my cheek and swept my mane from my neck until all I could feel were his lips and his claws gently scratching at my neck behind my ear, pressing me further into the kiss. _

_With as much warning as he had initiated the kiss, he broke off. I stared up at him, once again out of breath but for completely different reasons. A cocky smile slid across his face, and he reached the tip of his finger to trace my swollen lips. "Rematch." _

_In seconds, he was off leaving me speechless at the finish line; as Cheterex was so quick to point out a few minutes later, that was not an easy feat. _

----

"_Da, you lost to a female." _The scorn in the little voice was apparent.

"_What's wrong with that?" _asked another small voice, apparently at odds with him.

"_But, I won the prize even without winning the race."_

"_Yeah, what was that?"_

"_I won her heart."_

"_Oh, gross!"_

"_Not gross - love. And if not for that, you would never have existed. Now off to bed!"_

"_Aw, Da."_ sounded the dual protest.

"_Now, now, your Da did as he promised; it is time for you to do your part."_

At the new sound, unmistakably feminine, my eyes, which had been glued to the small family in front of me, skittered deeper into the mist to search for the owner of the voice. The fog lifted somewhat, and I could finally make out the finer details of the, now, foursome. My breath caught in my throat as I watched Kijani, just as I remembered him, tucking in two small forms in separate bedrolls. The children were only blanket-covered figures, but I could see tufts of hair, as light as mine and covered in spots, peaking from the folds.

"_Goodnight, little ones."_

"'_Night, Da."_

Kijani turned away from the two, and the grayness that separated me from them thickened and darkened concealing the cubs from view. However, in the process of redistributing itself, the fog ended up thinning and highlighting Kijani and the newcomer. The female who had spoken was Acinonyx, her markings more pronounced than mine. Her hair, the color of spun Berbil wheat, pale with vivid spots that almost appeared black in contrast to her pale features, fell in long waves almost to her waist.

I couldn't take my eyes off the pair. Slowly, she took a step toward Kijani. He closed the distance and encircled her in a warm embrace, a lover's embrace. He nuzzled her neck and trailed soft kisses across her jaw line stopping only at her lips for a much longer intermission. The movements were familiar; there was no hesitation, each action reciprocated. It was a dance that had been done before, choreography between two that was as natural as breathing.

Breathing for me, however, became more difficult, almost impossible. It was as if my heart had stopped, and my lungs had with it. The earlier warmth of watching my family interact, even without me, drained away leaving only frozen shock in its wake. I did not recognize the female, but I knew that she stood in my place.

"_Well, hello to you too,"_ the female said, as both cheetahs came up for air.

"_I missed you."_

"_And I you, Da." _The last word was spoken with teasing laughter.

Kijani ran a hand through his spotted mane. _"Aw, Kas, don't start."_

"_Why not?"_

"_I have to do this."_

The female called Kas pointed to the faint glimmer of children sleeping a few meters away. _"They are their mother's children not yours." _

"_They are mine. They are the what should have been, not the explosion, not the mutant attack, not our deaths."_ Kijani pushed away from her, separating them from each other, and the small part of me that could still feel anything besides numbness was secretly pleased by his rebuff.

She, however, would have none of it. She closed the gap between them. I heard myself hiss in warning, in contempt, but Kijani did not oblige and push her away again but neither did he respond to her. I took his indifference, his refusal to look at her, as my prize, but I knew that victory would be fleeting and hollow.

Kas's hands slid across Kijani's shoulders and up his neck. Cupping her palms around his face, she forced him to look at her. _"You know they never were. Why do you torment yourself this way?"_

"_It is my duty. Without me, they have no one. They cease to exist."_

"_They never did exist, not like we did. They are a what if, a possibility; we were not – are not. I have been patient, but it is time for you to choose. It is time for us to leave this place."_

Kijani again slipped out of the female's embrace and stared at the two small bundles that slept. He reached out and slowly stroked each form, kissing his fingers to his lips and brushing them across where their hidden faces were. He stood and stepped away. The cubs' images began to grow fainter, waver and suddenly they vanished.

"No!" I yelled, finding not only my voice but also control of my limbs. I ran to the spot where I had last seen the twins. It was empty. Furiously, I turned to Kijani. He had rejoined Kas, and they stood with their arms around each other. "How could you?" I raged, my voice a mixture of pain, disbelief, and fury.

Kijani looked directly at the space where I stood. His green eyes pierced through me. They were the last pieces of him to fade as both he as Kas disappeared, leaving me alone in the thickening fog. "No!" I cried out in denial and reached for the space where he had been. My hands came away empty, clutching at the mist.

"It is not possible. This is a dream, a nightmare. This is not happening; this is not real!" I knew I was rambling, but it was all I had, all I could do. A light shimmering caught my eye, and with hope that dissolved with the realization it was neither Kijani nor the twins, I turned to face Jaga once more.

"Tell me that was not real!" I pleaded.

"I cannot."

My hands balled into tight fists, my claws stabbing deep into my palms, I approached the jaguar. "Tell me! Were Kijani and Kas…did they." I felt something dangerous beginning to break in my mind.

"This is your reality, Cheetara; only you can answer that."

A spike of fury drove deeply past what little rational parts of my mind were left completely severing my connection with sanity. "For once in your godsforsaken life," I screamed, now close enough to strike with each word, "give me a f**king straight answer!"

My claws sliced through the jaguar. With each pass, he would fracture only to reform at the retraction of each blow. Physically spent and panting, I stared at the true ghost in front of me. Again I noted how his eyes seemed to shift between the orange I remembered to a strange hazel almost green. "What are you? Who are you?"

An enigmatic smile slid across his lips as he stared down at me. "I'm whatever, whoever, you want me to be, need me to be."

The being in front of me flashed from Jaga's form into Kijani's. I stepped away as he encroached on my space overwhelming my senses. The image blurred to a scarlet-maned, Lord of the ThunderCats. "What's wrong, Cheetara?"

"Not real," I muttered shaking my head emphatically trying to rid myself of the visions before me, but my efforts did not dismiss him.

"Who do you prefer? Sleek, fast Acinonyx" – he shifted into Kijani and then easily transferred back to Lion-O's larger form – "or strong, young Leo? You must choose. You can't have us both."

An impossible juxtaposition of Kijani and Lion-O stood before me. Openmouthed, I stared; I could not form any word or sound. I backed away, and he followed until I was pinned against him and a large tree trunk.

_Where had that come from?_ The tiny part of my still rational mind asked. I clung to that last piece of reality like a victim in the ocean clings to the last piece of floating wreckage from a sinking ship.

"Which one of us do you want? Need?" asked the combined forms. We were so close our bodies were practically touching. Showing dominance, he leaned in further, pressing his chest against my breasts. My back scraped roughly against tree bark as I molded myself to the trunk vying for the remaining space.

His laughter, cruel and oppressive, vibrated in a growl as he pressed his advantage and brought his lips perilously close to my right ear. "Why so frightened, swift one? Oh, my mistake, perhaps it is not fear that makes your eyes grow wide; your heartbeat flutter like a snared moth; your breath catch in your throat; or your scent so" – he leaned back slightly and sniffed the hair at my temple and down my neck – "tantalizing." The heat of his breath so close sent shivers down my spine, and he laughed even louder at my visible reaction. "Instead, could it be want, desire, of your wildest dreams coming true?"

I felt my eyes widen in shock at the merged lion/cheetah's words. Refusing to be submissive any longer, I reacted and swung my hand at his head. Instead of the satisfying slap of palm meeting flesh, it passed through him. My momentum, not stopped by a physical form, flipped me around so that I was facing the tree trunk rather than backed against it. A pair of strong, clawed hands pinned my wrists to my sides.

"Not so quick now," murmured the Kijani/Lion-O hybrid against my temple. He tightened his grip and nuzzled my mane away from my neck. I could feel myself tremble against him, and I flexed my wrists trying to break his iron grip.

My squirming only seemed to make my situation worse. He deftly pulled my hands together behind my back and secured them in one of his large ones. I arched backward with the position, my head pressing against his chest.

Slowly, he took his free hand and wound his fingers through my mane, twisting and pulling it tight until I had no choice but to look up at him. He licked his lips slowly and breathed in; it almost felt as if he were stealing my breath from me. Ever so slowly his lips descended toward mine.

"Enough, Mafdet," ordered a voice from the grayness. The hybrid paused mid-motion and looked up into the fog searching for the voice. We were so close I could feel his breath brushing against my lips. Even though he was distracted, he did not release his grip, so I could only use my peripheral vision to conduct my own search for my rescuer.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a shimmering being taking the form of a male jaguar. Relief flooded through me, and I sagged against my tormentor's chest. Ironically, his hold on me was the only thing that kept me upright. Another flash of light next to where the hybrid and I stood attracted my attention. Slowly, the form of an unknown, female Acinonyx materialized.

"You know the rules, Jaga," she said. "She is in my realm. I have claim to her."

"She is not supposed to be here. It is not her time."

"It is not for you to decide. Her presence here is proof enough."

"Then I invoke vicem gerere."

The female cheetah's eyes narrowed and her pupils shifted to mere slits, making her appear much more catlike rather than feliniod. She closed the distance between them and looked directly into Jaga's face, obviously judging his statement. "You understand the implications of such an invocation?"

Jaga neither flinched from her gaze nor her words but nodded. Mafdet circled him, sizing him up. Apparently, agreeing to his plea, she spoke, "Very well, Maahes, release her."

Very slowly, it seemed with regret, the creature called Maahes unplaited his fingers from my mane. As his hand disentangled from the last strands of my hair, he drew his claws sensuously across the grain of my fur near the most sensitive part of my neck.

As soon as I was completely free, I ran to Jaga, welcoming his arms as they wrapped around me in a fierce embrace. I craned my neck so I could see into his eyes and still remain within his protection. They were indeed the russet I remembered. There was no hint of green hidden within them.

"What did you do? What is vicem gerere?" I stumbled over the words I had never heard before.

"I am taking your place."

"My place? What? Jaga, no…" The ominous implications of what that might mean stopped me.

"I told you that I have been sent here for a reason. Now, go. You will only be granted this opportunity once." He pushed me away from him. I stumbled slightly still not sure of what to do, what was really happening, or if reality was even part of any of this.

"But, what about Lion-O?" I asked, already afraid I knew the answer, and if it were what I feared, I knew the Lord of the ThunderCats would never forgive me.

"He no longer needs me. You and the others are his mentors, his friends, his family now; he will get by without me."

I wasn't willing to take responsibility for Jaga's disappearance from Lion-O's life and attempted to rejoin the jaguar, but Maahes changed form into a large lion and wound his body around Jaga's legs. He bared his sharp fangs as if daring me to approach.

"Go, Cheetara. Be wary of the treacherous terrain that is this land. You must find your way back before it is too late."

"But," I called out, watching the forms of Jaga, Mafdet, and Maahes fade away. "I don't know where it is that I am supposed to go," I finished my protest to the gray fog. My voice echoed eerily back to me, and once again I was completely alone.

I was suddenly so very tired. I walked back to the tree, the only object that still held its shape in the mist surrounding me, encroaching upon me, and slid to sit underneath it. _Maybe if I just rest here for a moment, I can figure out what I am supposed to do, where I am supposed to go. _Wearily, I brushed my hands across my face. Sleep suddenly felt like a good thing, and I closed my eyes.

_Wake up, little one._

My eyes fluttered opened at the sound of that familiar voice. Reclining next to me, his back against the same tree, was Kijani. I startled upright and fully expected the image to meld back into the fog from which I was sure I had conjured it. He did not.

_Hello, Cheetara._

"'Jani?" I asked and tentatively reached out to touch him. My palm slid across his shoulder, and I almost sobbed out loud when my hand didn't go through him. I needed little invitation; as soon as he opened his arms, I threw myself into them. They wrapped around me, and I felt his hands sliding through my mane caressing my neck and back. I snuggled closer fitting my head into the crook of his shoulder and neck. I didn't realize that I was crying until he whispered to me to hush and wiped the tears from my cheeks.

_Easy, mpenzi wangu,_ _I'm here._

"But, how?" I asked, not moving from my position in his arms. I wasn't sure that I would ever willingly leave them again.

_I just am._

Rather than fight for a more suitable answer, I curled myself tighter against him and rested my head against his chest. We sat in quiet, neither of us quite willing to break the spell. But, the silence was too much, and I soon realize why. I did not hear the steady thrumming of a heart beating reassuringly in his chest, nor did I feel the rise and fall of lungs filling with air. I squeeze my eyes tightly closed against a new wave of tears and waited for the heat of them to pass. Even when I thought I had mastered them, I kept my eyes closed. I wasn't ready, but apparently, Kijani was.

_I know you know. _The resignation and sadness tinting his voice made the heat burning in my eyes intensify. I blinked rapidly, but a stray tear managed to still find a way to escape. His index finger caught the droplet. It slid down and disappeared in the fine fur on his arm.

"You aren't real; are you?"

I had never understood the term sad smile before. The oxymoron had seemed almost silly, but at this moment, the meaning was crystal clear. One appeared on Kijani's face accompanying his answer. _I'm as real as I can be._

"It is not enough, though; is it?" He opened his mouth to reply, and I pressed my fingers against his lips to stop him. "Don't," I pleaded, "I don't think that I can handle it if you say it out loud." Not willing to see the unvoiced answer shining in his eyes, I turned my body and curled back around him. His arms encircled me, holding me, protecting me.

We lay together in silence. Kijani's fingers idly traced intricate geometric designs on my shoulder and down my arm, and I outlined the spots scattered across his shoulder and up his neck. It was a familiar practice, something we both engaged in whenever we were trying to find the right opening to talk about things we didn't necessarily want to.

"Who was Kas?" I blurted out suddenly.

Kijani's fingers stilled. I wasn't sure if he would answer, and I was suddenly filled with fear that he would fade away again. I tightened my grip on his shoulder, but he remained solid. After another moment's hesitation, he resumed his pattern writing, and I relaxed slightly although I noticed that he had yet to answer my question.

_You saw us?_

I nodded to the mostly rhetorical question. Part of me was afraid that if I spoke, I would tighten his tongue on the matter.

_Kasi was before I ever met you, Cheetara. She was a member of my unit, a special forces team created by the Acinonyx to handle black ops missions for the Thunderian government._

He paused letting his words sink in, gauging my reaction to them. I had never heard of this division before today, but I realized there was much of my life and the lives of our Thunderian countrymen of which I knew little. _Some historian_, I mocked myself internally.

As if reading my thoughts, Kijani continued, _You wouldn't have known about it; it was off-grid and well-guarded as a secret. We didn't exist, not officially. It gave the powers that be complete deniability. _

_You might recall we Acinonyx were the rebels, the black sheep, of Thundera. It wasn't a stretch for the other clans and other species, for that matter, to believe that one of our kind had gone rogue. Kas fit the bill and had a murky enough background to play the part. She went under cover, deep cover, posing as a Thunderian traitor, even selling secrets that the Thunderian Council didn't necessarily want exposed. _

_The gambit worked. She eventually made her way into the Plundarian monarchy's service. It was she who discovered the Sword of Plundarr's existence and the plans that Ratilla had to invade Thundera and kill King Claudus. She managed to steal the sword and was on her way back to Thundera when she was intercepted._

_You know the history form there. Ratilla attacked, albeit prematurely, and tried to kill King Claudus, but Jaga defeated the mutant. We won; the Treasure of Thundera was safe, but there were costs for our success. _

_It wasn't just Queen Aria who lost her life, but Kasi did as well. Her body was left on display at the foot of King Claudus's throne, a message to all about the fate of anyone who crossed the mutants._

I reached out my hand and gently caressed Kijani's cheek, his pain at Kasi's death still evident on his face and in his words. "Was she…were you…"

_Lovers? Yes. Mated? No. The unit didn't allow fraternization. Our relationship was one in secret. Only Kas and I knew._

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I meant it as much about his loss as about my misconceptions of them.

_It is the past. And, then I found you. I had another shot at love, life._

"Until that too was cut short."

_That it was. _Kijani stroked the side of my face with the pad of his thumb. He reached his other hand to cup my other cheek and held my gaze captured in the green for which he was named. His eyes searched mine looking for something else._ Tell me, Cheetara, why did I not know you were with cubs?_

I froze. I had expected him to ask. It was only a matter of time. _Why had I kept my silence? _It had been a question I had inspected from every angle, yet I still did not have an answer. I swallowed hard and tried to look away, but his hands were firm.

_Mpenzi?_

"I don't have a perfect answer," I began. "There was so much going on. Zylia had just given birth to her twins and the problems that she and Killian were having with them, with each other." I shook my head, as much as I could with Kijani still holding on to it.

"That's not really true," I admitted. My tears had returned making Kijani's green eyes sparkle like emeralds. "I was scared. Zylia had lost two sets of cubs before she finally carried a set full-term. I wanted to be sure. I thought that there would be a better time. I thought that we would have more time. I never…I never thought I would lose you, lose them."

_You were trying to – protect me?_

As misguided and ridiculous as his statement sounded, that was indeed what I had been trying to do. I nodded sadly feeling the wetness track down my cheeks.

_Oh, little one. _The laugh that Kijani made was full of remorse._ I guess, we both were keeping secrets in the name of protection? _He caressed both of my cheeks and wiped away the tears. _I don't remember you crying so many tears, mpenzi wangu. _

"I know," I agreed and pulled out of his arms to wipe my face as well. "I've become some weepy female who breaks down at the least little thing. It is embarrassing."

_You are finally grieving. This means you are finally letting go._

"No! I don't want to let go. I don't want to forget."

Kijani's hands curled around my shoulders, holding me at arms length yet still offering an embrace. _Letting go doesn't mean forgetting. It means making room in your heart for someone else. It means no longer living in the past but in the present and allowing dreams of a future to be. _

_I know that you loved me, Cheetara; I know that you will always love me, but your heart is big enough to be shared with someone else who can give you a chance at happiness. Don't hold on to me and our what might have been; it will destroy your what could still be._

Kijani's hands dropped from my shoulders, and he looked into the gray expanse behind me. _It is time. You must go._

"No!" I crossed the small distance between us and wrapped my arms securely around him. "Please, just a little more time."

Kijani returned my embrace just as fiercely. _We will always want just another minute, another second. That will never change. It is time. You have to leave._

"But, I don't know where to go."

_Look._ Kijani pointed over my shoulder, and I turned my head to see what he saw. I felt my eyes brighten as they encountered the ThunderCat symbol shining against a gray wall of mist. _That is your beacon. You must hurry, little one, you are beginning to lose your form._

I looked down at my hands. Kijani was correct; my fingers were becoming wispy at the ends, blending into the fog that was beginning to thicken around us.

"I – I."

Kijani stopped my protest with a kiss. There was no hesitancy in his action. His lips pressed desperately to mine. I parted mine in invitation, and the kiss deepened to tongues intertwining and sliding at a pace that was akin to devouring a last meal. Indeed, this was our last meal, our last chance at goodbye, a goodbye we never had.

Heat made my vision swim even though my eyes were completely closed. I threaded my hands through his short mane tugging him closer wanting more. Reluctantly, I felt him slow and begin to pull away. I tried to tighten my grasp around his neck.

_We will always want more, _Kijani whispered, placing a finger to my lips and backing a step away from me. _Goodbye, little one, I shall always love you._

"And, I you," I replied, realizing that this was what our parting should have been all those years ago, at the Acinonyx Clan ship, before it had left the doomed Thundera. I watched until his green eyes faded from my view completely before I allowed myself to turn around. The ThunderCat beacon was still shining against the fog. Gathering my strength, I ran to the angry black cougar's head cast in ruby light.

oooOOOooo

The loud crash of the ThunderTank landing in a less than gentle way took my attention from Cheetara's pale and lifeless body. When I had told Kefiera to help Pumyra, I had expected her to go in search of the tank maybe get the portable defibrillator that Tygra had asked for. I had not expected her to retrieve the entire vehicle.

Rather than wasting time trying to figure out how or even why the lioness had done what she had the way she had, I ran to the vehicle and pried open the cargo hold housing the medical kit.

"Ho, is anyone there?" called a voice from inside the back of the tank.

I grabbed the case holding Cheetara's only chance and tossed it toward Panthro. "Panthro, think fast." The gray panther caught the defibrillator and set it quickly next to Tygra before resuming his chest compressions. Free for only a second the tiger immediately set out to remove the device from the box.

I turned my attention back to the vehicle. "Ho, it's Lion-O. Pumyra, is that you?"

"Thank, Jaga," came the muffled voice of the puma. There was a sound of metal shearing against gears as the canopy was slowly opened. "Electrical systems are shot. We have to open this thing manually."

After hearing her explanation, I grabbed the crank on my side of the tank and lent my help in forcing the heavy doors open. As soon as there was enough room for me to get inside, I leapt into the compartment. The moonlight combined with the glowing sticks that Bengali had created gave off enough illumination for me to see the occupants. I quickly walked to where Lynx-O lay on the bench seat at the back of the tank.

"How's he doing?" I looked at the bandages wound around him. There was no metal shard poking through them, so Pumyra must have found a way to get it out.

"He's lost a lot of blood, and his body is in deep shock. I'm trying to keep him warm, but even with all of the supplies I brought with me from Cat's Lair, it is an uphill battle. His golden hour is almost up. I just don't know."

I had a chance to look at the puma. She was covered in mud and blood and soaked to the bone herself, and she was alone with critically wounded. I saw Bengali under his own blanket. "And, Bengali?"

"His head wound is causing pressure to build in his brain. He lost consciousness a little while ago. I need a surgical suite, Lion-O. I can't help him here." Pumyra threw her hands in the air and gestured to the crippled vehicle. "Right now all the tank is good for is shelter."

I put my arm around her shoulder and was slightly surprised when she leaned into me. "We'll get through this," I promised.

I gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before letting go and poking my head through the roof. "Kat, Pumyra can use your help." I couldn't stop myself from looking to where Cheetara lay hoping that I would see something other than Tygra breathing for her and Panthro pumping her heart. I did not.

"We're here, Lion-O." Kat's appearance disrupted my vision. Both he and his sister were standing on the other side.

"Give Pumyra any assistance you can." I couldn't help myself; I was avoiding Wily Kit/Kefiera altogether and only speaking to Kat. "I'm going to help Panthro and Tygra with the defibrillator."

I didn't wait to see whether or not he complied, and I vaulted out of the tank, landing next to Cheetara. Her status did not appear to have changed. "What can I do?"

"See those two pads? We need to attach them to Cheetara's chest here and here." Tygra pointed to two spots on the cheetah's torso and breathed two more times into her mouth.

I carefully peeled the backing off one of the electrodes and placed it high on Cheetara's chest close to her collar bone. Once done, I repeated the procedure with the other electrode. I was about to place it where Tygra had directed when he stopped me.

"You have to apply it directly to her skin. Rip the bodice before you put it on her."

I looked at him for a minute in uncertainty. Then, steeling myself, I slowly ripped away what was left of the fabric of her top. With hands visibly shaking, I gently adhered the other pad low on her left side under her breast. "Done."

"All right, turn on the device. It will take it from here."

Glad to be focusing on something else, I flipped the switch, but nothing happened. I flipped the toggle lever and was again met with dead circuitry. "Tygra, what's wrong? What do I do?"

"Uccāra," Tygra hissed and pushed me out of the way to look at the display. He repeated the switch flip and lowered his head in defeat. "It's out of power."

"What does that mean?"

Tygra shook his head sadly. "We're done. There is no way we can save her. Panthro," Tygra called out to the panther, still pumping Cheetara's blood through her body . "It's over. Stop compressions."

"Tygra," – I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around so that he was looking directly in my face – "what are you saying?" Over his shoulder, I saw that Panthro had stopped his chest compressions. The look of grief on his face ripped through me.

"Panthro, no, resume your position. We can still save her; we have Pumyra. She has medicine." Neither of them moved.

"Jāhānnāma!" I pushed Tygra backward, and he fell to his knees next to Cheetara's head. "You are not a healer, you cannot call time of death. By law, you must continue giving life support."

"Lion-O," Tygra began, pleading with me.

I closed my eyes. I knew that she wasn't coming back, but I wasn't ready to let her go. I bit my lip hard and tasted coppery wetness. "Resume your positions." I heard the hollowness in my voice; it seemed to echo around me. "I'll go get Pumyra."

Panthro again began to act as her heart, and Tygra resumed her breathing. A deadly stillness, numbness, came over me, and I turned away from what I now knew to be futile efforts to bring her back. My feet moved me slowly away from Cheetara and back to the tank.

It took all of my strength to climb to the top of the cargo hold and lower myself in. "Pumyra, I need you to…" I stopped in shock. Not only did Pumyra look at me but also Lynx-O and Bengali. The latter two were both sitting up, alert and healthy.

"H-how?" I stuttered.

Pumyra laughed and wrapped me in a warm, celebratory embrace. "I know, it's a miracle, but Wily Kit, I mean, Kefiera, healed them. They are going to be fine. Better than fine!"

I swooped up the puma in my arms and spun her around. I had been in the deepest depths of despair and suddenly it had evaporated.

"Lion-O, stop; you're making me dizzy!"

I quickly put Pumyra down and walked up to Wily Kat and Kit. "You did this?"

Kefiera nodded her head once, her aquamarine eyes not leaving my face. "Are you ready to accept my help now?"

Shame at my early actions filled me, but I did not have time for my pride. "Please."

"We must hurry; she doesn't have long."

"What? Who doesn't have long?" Pumyra asked, hearing Kefiera's rushed statement. I didn't answer as both the entity and I hurried out of the tank.

I stopped a few feet from where Cheetara lay. The paleness of her features seemed as if death had already claimed her. Both Tygra and Panthro stopped as Wily Kit approached.

"I thought you were getting Pumyra." Tygra said, looking at the possessed wildcat.

"I've brought something better. I've brought her a chance."

"Move away, tiger; you too, panther." Two sets of eyes looked at me and waited for my nod before they did as Kefiera had asked.

As soon as they had moved, the lioness kneeled behind Cheetara's head. She placed her hands on the cheetah's temples and closed her eyes. A soft blue-green light seemed to flow from the possessed Felis, down her arms, and into Cheetara. A moment later, Kefiera keeled forward almost crashing onto the cheetah as she braced her weight on her outstretched hands. Cheetara appeared unchanged.

"What's wrong?"

Wily Kit looked up at me. I could see the faint sorrel of her eyes haloing Kefiera's blue-green ones. "The thundranium poisoning. I don't have enough strength. I'm sorry, lion."

"No," I could no longer stand still. How could I be given this little hope and have it dashed within seconds? "There has to be a way."

Kefiera only shook her head.

"What about the sword? You said that the sword could save her."

"Lion-O," Tygra protested, but I swung my hand out to silence him.

"The sword?" The aquamarine in Kefiera's eyes brightened obliterating any trace of Wily Kit's presence. "Yes, it might work."

That was the only prompting I needed. I reached out my hand and called, "Sword of Omens, come to my hand." There was no visceral response. I had forgotten that I no longer had command of the sword, but Tygra did. "Tygra, you must call the sword."

Tygra shook his head. "I cannot, Lion-O. It was forbidden for the sword to leave the lair."

"Forbidden? Forbidden by whom?"

"Jaga."

I looked down at Cheetara. The tiny bit of color that Kefiera had restored was fading again. "This is her only chance, Tygra." I grabbed his hand in mine and lifted them both to the sky. "Call the sword!"

Tygra remained mute. I pulled him so that we were face to face. "Will you let her die? Call the sword now!"

Something flickered in his eyes, and as one, Tygra and I both called out, "Sword of Omens, come to our hand!"

I felt the flash of recognition, the draw of power. Through my bond with the sword, I heard a mighty roar. It was as if the small dagger were in my hand. I felt it expand to its war-blade length. My eyes flickered with the power unleashed by the sword, and I saw both Panthro and Tygra respond to the call as well, mystical powers being added to their innate strength.

In the distance came the sound of a blade whipping through the air at speeds unknown. The Eye of Thundera roared again as if free from a cage. Tygra and I both kept our hands outstretched ready to catch the sword when it finally made its presence known.

The area where we stood was suddenly bathed in a bright, crimson light. My fingers flexed in anticipation, but the sword bypassed both Tygra and me and landed hilt first into the hand of a female.

My arm dropping to my side in shock, I turned to behold Cheetara standing with the Sword of Omens clutched in her hand. The glow from the sword played off her features and then vanished. The Eye of Thundera suddenly closed, and the entire weapon reverted back to its dormant state.

"I think this belongs to you," Cheetara said and placed the sword against my palm. Only the muscle memory triggering my fingers to close around the grip kept it from falling to the ground.

The cheetah turned away from me and walked to a small figure huddled on the ground. Very gently, she picked up the limp form of Wily Kit. "Kit, can you hear me?"

"Cheetara?" Kit spoke barely above a whisper. "It is you. You're all right." She draped her arms around the cheetah in a hug, her head lolling into Cheetara's collarbone.

"Yes, thanks to you and Kefiera. Where is she?"

Wily Kit gestured her hand to an area still bathed in waning moonlight before returning it to wrap around Cheetara's neck.

Cheetara turned to Panthro and smiled at him. He seemed as dumbstruck as I was, but he took the exhausted Felis into his strong arms. Then she walked to the spot Kit had indicated. A faint glimmer of a lioness' form took shape. About the only noticeable characteristic was a pair of blue-green eyes shining where a face would be. The rest of the lioness was almost amorphous as if she didn't even have the strength to coalesce.

"Thank you; without the Eye of Thundera, I would not have found my way."

_It was your lion and your tiger, not me. When I heard the sword, I almost took it for myself. My desire for revenge has not been quenched. Had you not caught it, I might have…_

"But, you didn't. You are stronger than you realize."

_If you go to the Temple Ruins, under what is left of the fountain is where Grune hid my body. Given a proper burial, I can transcend._ Kefiera looked to where Wily Kat now stood with the other ThunderCats from the tank. _We both can._

"I will take care of you, and I will record your life and Kefir's in the Thunderian history archive. You will not be forgotten."

_Thank you, daughter of Thundera._ With those parting words, the lioness faded from view, and the first rays of a sunrise broke the sky.

Still not quite sure of myself, I took a step toward Cheetara and then another until we were face to face. I raised my hand and brushed her cheek still not believing that she was standing in front of me. Her eyes closed for a moment, and she leaned slightly into my palm. Her mane fell slightly back revealing her left temple. There was no mark, no trace of the wounds that she had sustained.

"You're all right," I murmured.

She smiled, a true smile, a smile I hadn't seen on her face since, well, I couldn't remember. She seemed different, but I wasn't sure how or why – not that I cared, not that it mattered now.

"I am," she answered and then shivered slightly. She looked down at her body and then back up to meet my gaze. "Although, I do seem to be a bit under dressed."

My eyes followed the path that hers had taken a moment before. What was left of her uniform left little to the imagination. If she moved slightly too far in one direction, the whole ensemble would most likely fall to the ground. I felt my face flame and knew that it was probably as red as my mane.

Her hand cupped my cheek making me brave enough to meet her eyes again. She laughed low and softly. The sound was music to my ears, and I found myself beginning to grin too. A chuckle escaped from my lips, which only increased hers. Feeding off of each other, we were soon lost in a fit of unstoppable laughter.

I'm sure the others thought we had gone insane, but at the moment, I didn't care. Cheetara fell against me in exhaustion, and I leaned on her. If not for each other, we would have collapsed to the ground. It was the best feeling in the world. For the first time in a long time, as I looked at the sun rising over the main structure of Cat's Lair in the distance, I felt like we had come full circle, that we were finally home.

_-Fin-_

_

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A/N - The completion of an epic! This last chapter was indeed long, but it did not lend itself to being broken up. Thanks for bearing with me and reading it through. :) A special thanks to all who have (or will) take(n) the time to review. Your comments are greatly appreciated and make my day - and the plot bunnies you inspire...  
_

_I took some liberties with the Egyptian Mythology, but the premises used are based on true mythology lore. Translations: I am a native English speaker so any mistakes in translations from other languages are mine; (I'll claim the English mistakes too). _

_I still have plans to continue with this fandom – I've a lot yet to explore. So, hopefully, I'll catch on my next endeavor. Ciao, RL  
_

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**Sources:**

Silver Lining: The Phrase Finder. United Kingdom. Posted by bob. In Reply to: Re: Every cloud has a silver lining posted by ESC on January 18, 2003. Researched on March 1, 2009. WikiAnswers – The Q & A wiki. Internet. _Do clouds have silver linings?_ In Weather and Meteorology. section. Researched on March 1, 2009

Maahes (Mahes, Mihos, Miysis, Mysis) was the ancient Egyptian lion-god of war. He was thought to be the guardian of sacred places, and the one who attacks captive enemies. He protected the innocent dead and condemned the damned. Found on the web thekeep dot org.

Mafdet (also spelled Maftet) is depicted as a woman with the head of a cheetah. Her name means (she who) runs swiftly. Mafdet was the deification of legal justice, or rather, of execution. From the web wiki on Mafdet.

Vicem gerere – to switch places, take someone's place, Latin origin.

mpenzi wangu = my love, Swahili origin. Found on the web at africanlanguages dot com/swahili

Mpenzi = love, Swahili origin. Found on the web at africanlanguages dot com/swahili

Uccāra – Bengali origin – means excrement – Tigris vulgarity translation, shit. Found on the web at SAMSAD Bengali-English Dictionary

Jāhānnāma - Bengali origin; transliterated into English. Literally means: to condemn to hell. Used to mean damn it in Tigris. Found on the web at SAMSAD Bengali-English Dictionary

Portable defibrillator based on AED (automated external defibrillator). Found on the web wiki AED


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